


A Portrait's Symphony

by atriums



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Reylo, Everything is metal as hell, F/M, Fic is purely indulgent nonsense from author, Gen, Knights of Ren is a metal band, Kylo Ren also has canon-derived issues, Rey has canon-derived issues, Swearing, probably slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 02:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7249195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atriums/pseuds/atriums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After over a decade of being just another band, <i>Knights of Ren</i> has finally gotten their big break in the metal scene. However, after the abrupt departure of their co-founder and vocalist, Jessika Pava, the band's activities are on hold until they can find a replacement. Enter Rey, a mononymous YouTube artist with a sizable amount of followers, a cute smile, and an uncanny vocal talent that may be exactly what <i>Knights of Ren</i> need...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the metal goddess, Alissa White-Gluz and her departure from The Agonist and subsequent replacement by Vicky Psarakis. I like metal, and I am so goddamn weak for female-fronted metal bands...and powerful women in general. (sighs dreamily at Rey) This is totally gratuitous and indulgent as _fuck_ and I’m sorry I'm not sorry at all. Title taken from the lyrics to [Ideomotor by The Agonist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tVwNy_wiMqg). 
> 
> P.S. Kylo Ren’s official Spotify playlist also has a lot of heavier songs on it that I’ve quite enjoyed through the years. Motivation? Check.

  
_“Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence.”_ \- Robert Fripp

**There was something** beautiful about symphonic metal, something that danced along the fine hairs of Rey’s arms until they stood on end. Musical frission, they called it. It wasn’t her usual forte, but this song in particular she was helpless but tear apart and rebuild for herself. The melody moved her, swelled within her being until she swayed with the music and her voice built up in her throat.

Rey spent the next several days in her studio, playing around with the music until it was time to sit in front of the camera. She was good at putting on a show, at angling cameras to capture her face so she could sing her heart out. Music came so naturally to her, but video editing was a hard won ability. It took time and effort, and it wasn’t uncommon for Rey to be up until the wee hours of the morning with some eye drops to alleviate the dryness that staring at a computer screen for hours on end often brought.

Before Rey went to bed at almost four in the morning, she’d watched her video through at least twice to assure there weren’t any errors. All of the timing was spot on, but the longer she sat there, the heavier her head became. Sleep now, video tomorrow. No matter how loud she had the volume in her headset, her eyes still fluttered shut as the weight of the night pulled her toward slumber.

The video had to wait.

Rey slept as soon as she hit the bed, and arose again to golden sunlight filtered through her window blinds. Her room was bright and the temperature of the Phoenix area sun had dried her mouth and skin. It had to be around midday, if not early afternoon, and after a cold breakfast she was back at the computer again. Now with clarity of mind and a full stomach, Rey was able to spot and edit out two more errors in her cover video before she deemed it well and truly ready to face the world. 

While the video uploaded to YouTube, Rey checked through her emails. Spam, spam, a round-up of all the comments and new subscribers for her channel, and in the midst of it she saw the reply for which she’d been waiting at least a full week.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” she mumbled, fingers tapping idly against her cheek as she rested her jaw in her palm. _I could just not open it, she thought. Give this arse head a taste of his own medicine for a few days, yeah?_

Unfortunately, for this particular moment in life, Rey fancied herself a much better person than such petty imaginings. As painful as the process had been she was determined to see the collaboration through and never look back. This would be the last time she’d let some idiot talk her up with flowery prose that rose her spirits only to give way to a deep chasm of disappointment.

Why was it so hard for some people to respond and act within a timely manner? Rey had probably wasted weeks waiting around for something that would take her a couple of hours to complete in a single night, barring no personal complications. 

Rey sighed as she clicked open the email, and it read exactly as she’d expected. Apology. Petty half-wit excuses. _I quite think this collaboration will benefit the both of us, so I hope you’re still up for it! Skype chat later tonight?_ Thank goodness the time listed would be after her shift at the restaurant tonight. Rey was loathe to have a repeat of the last several weeks—

_Sorry, that time doesn’t quite work for me and my job. I’m free the dates and times listed below, if we can figure out something for then?_

_(Radio silence.)_

Rey responded to the email with an enthusiasm that slipped through the gaps in her fingers. _It’s fine, I understand life gets away from us at times._ Skype tonight sounds great, I can’t wait to hammer out the finer details of this collaboration. It’s gonna be awesome! 

The rest of the day was routine: Rey would get up, shower, and walk down the block to the high class restaurant she at which she worked part time. She dressed herself up accordingly, in the high-waisted black skirt with a white, long-sleeved button-up blouse tucked in, hair pulled from her face into a tight bun at the back of her head, and finally a pair of pearl studs in her first ear holes. The lack of freedom was a bit disconcerting, but her wages plus tips was worth the strict uniformity. 

The night passed by in a blur of trays and delicious morsels. The flow of customers kept her busy, and her favorite chef was on duty to sneak her a few snacks while she worked. In between checking on patrons she hid out in the kitchen, teasing the middle-aged woman by switching around some of her utensils and fresh herbs and spices. If anyone else dared to do as Rey did, Maz would have them hung by their entrails; Maz was fond of Rey, the British girl that left her home to chase down a dream she’d thought was the only logical course in life.

(Of course, four years later, Rey wasn’t any closer to her dreams than before. Not when she was in a country so ripe with opportunities begging to be grasped.)

“The customers at table 16 says your ranch is to _die_ for,” Rey teased the old woman as she breezed by, straight to the industrial fridge.

“They’ve obviously never had real food seasoned with more than just salt before,” Maz replied without missing a beat, moving around the kitchen in a way that Rey likened poetically to a sort of dance. Maz hadn’t even blinked an eye at the fact Rey had switched the parsley and cilantro bowls—labels and all—though Rey was certain she caught the corners of her mouth tilted upward.

“Obviously.” Rey chortled as she exited the kitchen in a series of expert twists and turns around other staff members.

It was dark by the time Rey was done with her shift, but the air had cooled considerably. It was the only downside to living in the desert, the sudden temperature drops at night, but thankfully a childhood spent in Westminster had bolstered her resistance. With headphones in her ears and a soft indie pop song playing, the journey up the block to her home was a speedy one. She had just enough time to perfect her setup for recording, warm up with some tea and trills, and be ready within the hour. 

All she had to do was strap in, take a deep breath, and channel her inner Chris Motionless. Simple, right? So long as she wasn’t stood up again by her partner, then absolutely.

Rey watched the clock, rolling her eyes when 10:30pm rolled by. It had been the agreed upon time, and once again, as if becoming predictably unreliable, her partner hadn’t shown so much as a single trace of himself online. Rey spared one last baleful glare toward her desktop, skimming through her Skype contacts for his presence, and found herself disappointed but far from surprised.

“I should just cover the whole bloody thing myself,” she seethed aloud, mouth curled in a snarl. It would be so easy for Rey to do and pass off as an installment to her _Scream Like a Girl_ series, but she fancied herself a much better person than that. Not to mention she had an August Burns Red song next up on her list of songs to cover, and she was far too eager to give it a shot.

So instead, like a responsible and totally not embittered woman, Rey listened through the song a couple of times, rehearsed her part, and then started recording. The part was small, spanning across only thirty seconds right in the middle of the song. Timing would be crucial, but as soon as she packed up all the files and sent them off, it would no longer be her problem. 

The moment Rey clicked send after drafting her email, a heavy weight lifted from her shoulders. She sighed, slumping back in her chair, and enjoyed the loose-limb sensation of stress melting away. A few moments to breathe were precious and sweet, but few and far between when Rey kept her workload full. 

“Alright,” she murmured, spinning in her chair. “August Burns Red. Let’s go.”

*        *        *

**A flurry of wind** and trailed behind Finn as he stumbled inside the studio, the last vestiges of winter’s chill following him inside. Not a man for the cold, and wanting too much to enjoy the rich warmth surrounding him, he cupped his cold fingers in front of his mouth and blew hot air on them. “Sorry,” Finn started. “I didn’t mean to be late, I—” He cut himself short, lips pressed together in a thin line as he took in the Amazonian woman standing to his left. Well, wasn’t that a bit unexpected? “Phasma,” he greeted the band’s manager, gaze sweeping over the rest of the room.

The entirety of the Knights of Ren was present, but Phasma’s inclusion—not unusual, per se—carried with it the weight of something dire. The band’s manager was, for all intents and purposes, the worst workaholic Finn had the joy (or would that be displeasure?) of knowing. She knew not the meaning of fun.

“Finn.” Phasma acknowledged him with a nod of her head, her closely cropped white-blonde hair falling into her eyes. “It was a bit short notice, nevertheless I thank you all for coming so quickly.” 

“I wasn’t particularly occupied with anything else,” the band’s drummer, Poe Dameron said. Finn took the empty space to his left, clenching his hands into fists as he worked bloodflow back into his fingers. The studio was nice and warm, barely big enough to comfortably fit all six people inside even with Phasma’s mile long legs and Kylo Ren’s hulking, brutish body. Finn slipped off his winter jacket and threw it over the back of his chair, chuckling good-naturedly at Poe’s moxie. 

The thing that drew forth Finn’s attention the most was Jessika Pava, the vocalist of the Knights of Ren. Alongside Kylo Ren, she was a founding member of the band and had shaped it and helped mold it into the beautiful thing it had become. Usually brackish and with a personality much too big for her slight form to contain, she seemed a strange phantasm of herself—arms crossed over her chest, teeth digging into her bottom lip with worry.

Maybe it was just that post-tour depression some musicians tended to go through. They were two months off having spent six months touring around the Americas and Europe, and as the frontwoman—the face—of Knights of Ren, the loss of such attention would stand to make her wilt like a flower without the sun. 

“Alright,” Phasma cleared her throat, “I’ve got good news and bad news. What do we want to do first?”

Finn had barely enough time to breathe before Jess firmly, but quietly, said, “Good news. Please.” 

Phasma inclined her head to Jess, a distinct current of _something_ between the two women. “Good news is that album sales are still pretty steady following the conclusion of the tour. Compared to sales following your last major tour three years prior, we’re up 42%.”

Hux, a red-haired man sitting across from Finn, tilted his head to the side and his pride flooded the room. “That’s one hell of a difference, circumstances considered,” he mused. 

“Our last album nearly catapulted us to the moon,” Finn was quick to retort, “but before that was a bit hit or miss with fans.” 

“Metalcore is not my strong suit,” Jess inserted wryly. 

Before anyone else could offer anything else to say, Kylo Ren spoke up, “ _Vengeance_ wasn’t a bad album, but it was highly experimental. We tried new things and through those songs we learned what works with us and our styles, individually and wholly, and what doesn’t. Far from our best, it did put us on the mainstream map and that’s all we needed.”

“Can’t argue that,” Poe quipped. 

“Right,” Phasma said, and with that she shut the door to that discussion and locked it tight. “I suppose it’s time for the bad news?”

Hux muttered, “I take it this cannot be avoided.” 

“Hit me,” Poe said.

Kylo remained silent, a hand covering the lower half of his face. Did he already know? 

The silence in the room grew heavy with the weight of something Finn couldn’t quite put into words, nor was he sure whether to interpret it as good or bad. It just was, and it was important and made his skin crawl at the same time. However, when Jess opened her mouth and let out a loud huff, something in his gut twisted.

Jess shifted where she was, throwing dark hair over her shoulders. A nervous tick. “There’s no easy way to say it, so I’ll just come out with it. About halfway through our tour, I was contacted by—a band that we all look up to and admire. Their vocalist has decided it’s time to step down and focus more on their personal life.”

 _Oh, no._ Finn swallowed the emotion that crawled up his throat, bitter and stinging. _Please, no…_

“I was first choice apparently.” Jess laughed, though it was the kind of laugh that came following a Pyrrhic victory. “I spent some time with them while we were in Europe. It was...good. Fun. I couldn’t say no.” 

Though Jess hadn’t outright said it, everyone in the room knew what she meant. The temperature in the room felt like it had dropped several degrees in a split second, and genuine fear flooded through Finn’s system. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but choked up instead as his indecipherable emotions overwhelmed him.

Beside Finn, Poe wasn’t quite tense, but rather cautious like how one would approach a skittish pet. “Jess…” 

“You’re leaving the band,” Kylo flatly said, tattooed hands clasped over his stomach. He made an intimidating picture, the long lines of his face carefully stoic, but the coldness of his dark eyes belied the anger brewing inside of him. When Finn had first joined the band, he’d been afraid of the low simmering ire that always burned inside of his fellow guitarist, but he’d long since learned it was part of who Kylo was. It was that anger he oft channeled into the music he wrote, and some of the band’s best music had started with that stone cold look in his eyes.

Finn refused to believe it, not until Jess herself said it.

“But...you’ve done so much for Knights of Ren,” Hux uttered, steel gaze on the floor. “Our logo is your handwriting.” 

Jess’ cheeks pinked, eyes glittering with unshed tears. Though she didn’t cry often, she was the type whose face turned beet red. “I can’t say no,” she reiterated. “I won’t. I think me leaving Knight of Ren is truly what’s best for me, to further my career as a musician. If the logo I made bothers you, I would understand if you decided to change it.”

The room went quiet, and Finn swept over the room to take in the devastation left in the wake of Jess’ abrupt announcement. Phasma, ever the practical one, did as she did best: she kept her distance, removed from the conversation but able to step in and take control at any point. She stood closest to Kylo, keeping a wary eye on the man. Though imbued with anger that seemed to be part of him most days, he was not a violent man; rather, he preferred to lash out with his tongue, serpentine or razor sharp—whatever he felt was best demanded to meet the situation at hand. Over the years he’d worked hard to better control the looseness of his brain to mouth filter, but no one in the room had any doubts that Jess’ departure would affect him greatest. 

Kylo and Jess had started from the ground up with Knights of Ren, at first as just a feeble two-piece unit known as Starkiller. They’d started when their music was paltry noise with barely enough wherewithal to deserve to be called music, and now—ten years later, after everything the band had been through, all the music they’d written together to get them to where they stood—she was leaving. This had been in motion for months, since their time touring Europe for their last album. 

Finn swallowed the rife emotion building in his throat, hands clenching into fists. While in Germany, the band had taken a week long vacation from the music to explore Europe. Most of the time each member had done their own thing, and while Finn had never strayed far from his closest companion, Poe, and was always within close contact of both Hux and Kylo, the oddity of not having seen Jess for that entire week rushed to the forefront of his mind. 

( _“The Louvre!” Finn exclaimed, eyes bright with excitement. “The Eiffel Tower! Paris is fucking beautiful, man. We need to come back, promise me we’ll come back!”_

_Beside him, Poe shook with terribly suppressed amusement. “It is a city with beautiful architecture, lots of stories to be told. You know how that type of stuff snaps Finn right in,” he said, eyes crinkled. The two of them were sitting in a coffee shop with a public wifi network, enjoying a Skype session with both Hux and Kylo. There were too many people to make it a video call, but they’d promised to check in regularly. If only to keep Phasma from losing her mind._

_“Man, you’re over there going on about pretty architecture and shit and I’m over here with the best fucking chocolate I’ve ever had in my life in one hand, and the finest Belgian ale in the other. Life’s pretty goddamn good right now, I gotta say,” Hux waxed poetic._

_Finn and Poe shared a mutual look of disgust at Hux talking with a mouthful. What an animal, he expected to hear Jess chime in. All you care about is sugar and beer._

_But Jess couldn’t say her piece in a conversation she wasn’t part of. “Has anyone heard anything from Jess today lately? Is she still in Berlin?” Finn questioned._

_“You know, I’m not sure,” Kylo said quietly. “The last thing I got was her message declining to join us on Skype.” Then almost 24 hours before that the only thing she sent was that she was having a great time, talk to you soon!_

_“Eh, you know Jess,” Hux quipped, this time sounding like he remembered what manners were. “She’s wild but she won’t get lost on the way back to some backwoods German party and become part of some obscene human experiment.”_

_“Oh my god, Hux, I hope your next beer is as stale as your sense of humor,” Poe cursed his band mate, eyes alight with mirth and mouth curled in a self-satisfied smirk at how utterly offended Hux was._ )

A week was a long time, but Finn best knew when it came to music that a week could either be a second or months. Had it been enough time for her to record an album with her new band, and she finished her tour with Knights of Ren as a mere formality to them all? 

Finn swept his tongue over his too dry lips, soft breath breaking the silence that had so much more to say than words alone. “Which band is it?” he asked.

Jess shook her head. She crossed her arms over her chest, a gesture that should have been obstinate but in this moment, was the exact opposite. “I can’t say. I signed a Non-Disclosure Agreement while I met with them in Germany,” she murmured.

Finn’s chest ached, bereft from the air her words had stolen. 

“I’m sorry I put this off for so long,” Jess continued, looking up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers to her issues. “Ideally, I was to leave as soon as the tour finished. We made a couple of songs together, and it was...it was electric. We’ll make great music together. But, I had such a hard time saying goodbye to you all. I had a hard time saying goodbye to Knights of Ren, because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. The risk was worth it, and now...now I’ve decided it’s time to move on. I will _never_ forget everything we’ve ever accomplished together, don’t think that for a second-” Jess looked Kylo square in the eyes, unwavering, “and don’t think I’ve taken it all for granted either. I would be nothing without all of you, without Knights of Ren. As much as it hurts to close this chapter of my life, I’m ready to move forward. I’m ready to evolve. And moving forward to this new band will open so many doors.” 

Poe sighed, a hand rubbing the stress away from his neck. “Well, we can’t do anything to stop you. This sucks, I’ll admit, but I’m not so much a jerk that I’ll hate you forever for this. But this could have been handled better, y’know? You could have talked to us. Given us time to mull over this and our feelings, time to say goodbye. We’ll probably be smarting for quite some time yet,” he drawled.

“Thank you.” Jess cleared her throat, drawing herself to her full height. The weight of this secret from her shoulders lifted her spirits, brought back a flicker of herself that belied the excitement for the future brewing within her. 

A wave of agony speared through Finn’s chest to think he’d never see this beautifully talented yet brackish woman sit there again. That Knights of Ren would have to find a replacement for her if they wanted to keep making music. 

“I leave the country in two days to go to Germany, and from there I’ll do my best to keep in contact from a business perspective. Phasma and I already discussed most of it, but we want to hold off on any official announcements to not only give you all time to search for a new vocalist, but also controlled marketing. Or whatever. I’m still pretty new to this,” Jess said, managing a sheepish laugh despite the situation. 

No one was willing to speak, and after several long moments of silence, Jess accepted the cold shoulders turned her way. “Alright, well...this is goodbye, I guess.” She threw them all a tight smile before walking out of the studio, walking away from the band, and away from _them_.

Phasma was kind enough to wait until Jess’ footsteps had disappeared. “I’ll give you guys some time to figure out yourselves and the band and how you’d like to proceed. Just let me know so I can keep in touch with the Label,” she hummed, leaving them to their devices.

Though the studio was barely big enough to fit six people in it, now with only four it seemed like too much space and too much distance between them all. 

Kylo was the first to move. “Go home,” he said to his remaining three bandmates, his voice a near croak. “Go home and, like Phasma said, take some time out to deal. God knows we all need it.” He was like a tower, tall and imposing and muscles tense. He flexed his fingers, an idiosyncrasy that betrayed his urge to go to the gym and have a few rounds with a punching bag. Where Phasma was a workaholic, Kylo was a slave to the gym and when music could not help him with his ire, the gym was the next best thing for him.

Finn waited until Kylo was out of the room before he turned to Poe and Hux and said, “We need to make sure he doesn’t tear his ACL or something this time.” 

Hux shook his head. “Let’s give ourselves each a day, then we can worry about what type of injury Kylo will give himself at the gym. He’s not that daft, he won’t do anything that might risk his ability to make music. Band or no, music is always his number one.” 

Poe nodded, zipping his leather jacket up to his chin. There was nothing more to say, they needed time to themselves to process what had just happened. What had really just happened and everything it meant. No doubt each member would have their own ways of coping with such a huge loss. “Tomorrow, then,” he said gruffly. “Let’s all go home.”

 

*        *        *

**If anyone bothered to** ask Finn, he’d say his best trait was his adaptability. The son of a military man and his headstrong wife, he was no stranger to moving several hundred miles away from base to base at but a moment’s notice. Sometimes he reveled in the move, enjoyed breathing in the new air and getting away from a place he couldn’t quite fit in at; other times he was mournful, not having been ready to bid what friends he’d been able to make adieu. 

Over the years, Finn learned change was inevitable—that it was part of life you had to accept and move with. The thought of Knights of Ren being without Jess, of that uncertainty twisting in his gut, was never something he enjoyed, but he was wise enough to leave well alone. Jess had made her decision, the inevitability of this change was immutable. They all had to keep moving forward, and lucky for Finn, he had plenty of practice in that.

“I think we need to find a new vocalist. Knights of Ren is here to stay, and so am I,” Finn told his bandmates, hands warmed by the hot chocolate he’d purchased from the cafe they agreed to meet in. The future was never constant, and though it hurt deeply to have to say goodbye to Jessika, Finn was no idiot. Time stilled for no one, not even those that slowly rose to the top and tasted what they thought could be ambrosia, the food of the gods.

Poe and Hux were quick to nod their agreement. 

“There was never any other option,” Kylo drawled, sitting back as the waitress came to top off his coffee— _black, just like your soul,_ Jessika would have teased him. He’d taken off his jacket and wore nothing but a white T-shirt underneath, arms full of colorful ink on display. “So long as I’m here, there will always be Knights of Ren.” 

“Good,” Hux said, his relief palpable. He ran his hand over the slicked back hair that met in the back of his head at a point, giving way to a smooth undercut. It was freshly shorn, Finn noted idly. Ever the vain one, their bassist. “So we find a new vocalist, preferably as soon as possible.”

“She’s gotta fit with us,” Poe interjected.

Hux rolled his eyes. “Well, of course,” he said. “But I think we have a golden opportunity we’d be stupid not to consider. If we time this just right, we can spin this situation to our advantage. Garner as much attention as possible.”

“Consider it considered,” Poe said, and then tittered to himself when Hux spared an exasperated look at the ceiling. “I’ll ghost around the usual haunts in this place, see if we can find any local talent. It’s been a few years, but I think I still remember them all.” 

“So we definitely want another female vocalist?” Finn asked. 

Kylo responded, not unkindly, with a simple, “Well, yeah.” He dropped his gaze to the table, tongue pressing against his teeth in thought. He added, “I think that’s one of the things about us that drew all of our fans in. Women in metal are rare and powerful, and Jessika is as metal as you can get.”

And she was moving on, leaving them behind in the dust. All they had to do was find someone worthy of filling the space she’d left behind. 

But things like that were always easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions the band has an album called Vengeance. This is a shameless reference to a [song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlpPXp49d8k) on Kylo Ren's official Spotify playlist. 
> 
> These first couple of chapters will probably be slow, but I hope you'll bear with me while I put these pieces together and make something of them. Thank you all for taking the time to read this fic! ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

  
_“Music has the power to create a universe or destroy a civilization.”_ \- Katherine Neville

Rey’s YouTube channel was more or less her entire livelihood, so every video she posted was carefully planned and edited at least thrice before she posted it. Ideas, though abundant, often never met with any viewers until weeks upon weeks following completion. Rey had been known to get halfway through editing a video, decide she didn’t like how it was filmed, and then start over from scratch.

It wasn’t often something impromptu fell in her lap and she followed it through. But when Rey woke up at 4 in the morning because her bed was soaked from a burst pipe right above her, she realized the creative opportunity for what it was. Instead of angrily tearing apart the walls after leaving a voice message on her landlord’s voicemail, she set up her cameras in places they wouldn’t get ruined and _then_ tore angrily into the walls.

It took two days: one to do the actual repairs, and then the second day was for cleaning up the mess. Recording herself was such an impulsive decision, but as she penned some lyrics to go match she pulsed with excitement to see the end project. It was nothing serious, a little less effort than her usual videos, but it was the fun little things like this that often got her most of her subscribers. It was, more or less, the best job she could have asked for. The restaurant supplemented her income, and it also kept her from becoming the kind of person that never left their apartment.

All in all, Rey lead a pretty uniform existence with music at the heart of it. It was the one thing she loved most in life, and it was a gift to be able to have gotten as far as she had at twenty-three. It wasn’t the dream life, nothing idyllic to write home to her parents about (they loved hearing about it anyway), but it was music and she was content.

Music had been the one constant in Rey’s life, the one thing she loved and had not lost. It was the one thing that she gave herself wholly to, and the one thing that warmed her to her bones. Rey would sing and scream until her chest ached, and then she’d plug in her guitar and strum until her fingers bled and her whole body vibrated with the echoes of the melody.

“How To Fix Broken Pipes: Metal Edition” was what Rey settled on for the title of her video. Everything came together faster than usual, but it still took a week to put together a song and video. She’d opted for a heavier, scream-focused song with aggressive, but exaggerated lyrics for a humorous tone overall. It was the easiest one she’d done in a while, and to say she was pleased as punch upon its completion was a bit of an understatement.

By the time Rey got around to uploading the video, she saw that the collaboration she’d done a few weeks back had finally been uploaded. It set her on edge, teeth grinding together that her fellow collaborator had edited and uploaded it with nary a word, let alone any sort of gratitude.

 _Here’s a collaboration with the amazing REY, be sure to check her stuff out!_ Thanks?

Whatever this guy’s deal was, Rey was over the simmering frustration. She’d upload her video, check her emails, and then finish painting her bedroom wall. Following the burst pipe incident, a bit of change was in order and there was a bucket of a lovely, deep wine red paint calling her name. An accent wall would look fucking wicked, wouldn’t it?

Except Rey didn’t get to painting the rest of the day, because as soon as she opened her inbox, the most peculiar email would make her forget everything else.

*        *        *

The moment the shrill scream of his phone went off, Kylo was on his back bench pressing over a hundred pounds of weight. He contemplated a moment of ignoring it, but he’d set that ringtone specifically for Knights of Ren’s manager. If Phasma was calling him, she had something to say and didn’t take kindly to being ignored. Always a busy woman, she used to chastise them when they first signed to the label, I don’t have time to be ignored by you.

Kylo sat up and thanked his neighbor for spotting for him, digging his phone out of his gym bag with one hand and wiping the sweat off his face with a towel in the other. “What’s up, Phas?” he greeted casually. She hated it but had stopped protesting at the ludicrousness of his nickname, well the whole band’s really, for her.

“You never told me how the meeting went with that prospect almost two weeks ago. I figure you’ve all decided against her, but I need to officially know.” Straight to the point, as always.

Kylo’s knuckles clenched, skin mottling white around the tape on his hands. The prospect had been a woman Poe found at a bar’s open mic night, _great singer, a bit of a diamond in the rough._

_(“She did this spoken poetry piece that had a screaming bit in it, and I didn’t think she sounded too bad,” Poe said, walking backwards on the street so he could stare Kylo in the eyes._

_Kylo arched an eyebrow. “A diamond in the rough?” he echoed his bandmate’s earlier sentiment. Truth be told, he wasn’t interesting in working with a vocalist that was taking a few steps down from Jessika. Their days together as just Starkiller were a brutal reminder of what they were, where they’d come from and how hard they’d worked to earn it. Maybe he was being selfish, but he wanted someone who could stand beside them and not be several steps behind them._

_Poe seemed to understand what Kylo’s thought process was if the wry twist of his face said anything. “Just give her a chance, yeah? Something is better than nothing at this point.”_

_The two of them walked into the bar after scanning their driver’s licenses at the door, Poe leading the two of them to the bar. They had an excellent view of the stage where a young woman strummed an acoustic guitar and sang. Her voice was rich like dark chocolate and velvet, though roughened in a way Kylo considered meant she could have been a smoker. This place was perfect for that kind of voice._

_“That her?” he asked, nodding in the woman’s direction._

_Poe inclined his head in return._

_Kylo scrutinized the woman closer now, eyes narrowed. She wasn’t all slim, a bit of thickness around her middle. Blonde hair styled in dreadlocks, though her hair he could tell was too thin and stringy to really hold the locs well. Or maybe they’d been done recently? Either way, Kylo had seen much better._

_Kylo leaned in close to speak into Poe’s ear. “Well, first impression is she looks like a hippie. She sounds great though.”_

_“I’ve been watching her for a bit now. Some of her spoken word poetry is definitely hippie. Stereotypical as they get from what I can tell. I still think she’s worth considering at least,” Poe replied, shrugging his shoulders. Kylo mirrored his gesture and the two of them waited for her to finish before approaching her._

_As soon as the woman was done with her set, Poe waved her over then shuffled the three of them over to a small table. Nobody would be able to overhear them there. However, the second Kylo came up behind her, his olfactory senses were assaulted with a pungent scent that made his skull pound instantly. Patchouli, it had to be, and beneath that something a bit more...earthy, but still with a familiar tang that made his hands clench._

_“Thanks for sitting with us, Anna,” Poe said as they all took a seat. Kylo offered her a poor mockery of a smile, fists pressed against his jeans. He listened to the two of them talk about music for a few moments before he couldn’t take it anymore._

_Clearing his throat, Kylo interrupted the two of them, “Do you smoke?”_

_Poe’s jaw snapped shut, and in one second he had gone from cautiously optimistic to resigned._

_Anna hesitated for a fraction of a second, then she wrinkled her nose. “No. Do you know how much toxicity is in cigarette smoke alone?”_

_Kylo shook his head. “I don’t mean cigarettes, Anna. Do you_ smoke _?”_

_She’d be stupid to lie, he could smell it on her beneath the heaviness of patchouli._

_Anna pressed the palms of her hands together. “Yes,” she admitted. “Fairly regularly, if I’m to be completely honest. Is that going to be a problem?”_

_Kylo wanted to look back to Poe, to beseech him with his gaze so that he wasn’t alone in doing this. Kylo didn’t like being the bad guy, but Poe would defer to whatever choice he made nevertheless._

_“I’m sorry, Anna,” Kylo started, “but our band is committed to being straight edge. It’s not fair to ask you to quit, but it’s also not fair that we sacrifice something we’ve taken a stand for. You understand?”_

_Watching the way Anna’s face crumpled should have made him feel bad, but the stirring nausea in his gut held him back. “I understand,” she murmured._

_“No hard feelings?” Kylo reached out a hand, and Anna shook it with a small smile._

_“Nah, I get it. Thanks for your consideration,” she said._

_“Thank you for your time.” Kylo smiled back at her, and with Poe at his side, the two of them departed._

_Knights of Ren was, at its core, some moderate form of straight edge. Starkiller hadn’t been, but that had also been a grim omen that Kylo didn’t like to think about often. He hadn’t lied to Anna about that, but to tell her that was the only reason he’d politely declined to offer he a real chance at Jessika’s spot would be a lie._

_“Shit, sorry man. I forgot about...you know.” Poe spoke as soon as they were out on the street, glaring holes in the concrete reproachfully and hands balled inside his leather jacket._

_“It’s fine. You weren’t there, I don’t blame you.” But Hux had been. It was why the last time Hux had openly had anything to drink, they’d been on opposite sides of a border. It was silly to think Hux hadn’t had anything since then, but Kylo’s rule was that it stayed away from anything Knights of Ren-related and please don’t talk about it if you don’t have to._

_“No hard feelings?” Poe threw him a knowing grin, hand extended as both an echo of what had happened and a truce. Kylo chuckled as he shook Poe’s hand._

_“Nah, man. We’re good.”)_

“No,” Kylo spoke into the receiver. “She didn’t quite fit the band’s ideology.” 

If Phasma had been standing before him, Kylo knew she’d be giving him an arch look. “And you couldn’t tell me this when this had been decided why?” she inquired primly. 

“Bad memories, mostly,” Kylo tried to sound as nonchalant as possible when he was anything but. Just thinking about it again soured his stomach. Maybe he could add on an extra 25 pounds to the dumbbell? “Wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened for a while.” 

Phasma uttered a noise of understanding. Everyone in the band knew the story, the infamous tale of why Starkiller, a name that heralded some gruesome prophecy with it, had been left behind in the dust of Knights of Ren’s success. “Very well then,” she dismissed the topic. “I’ve been in close contact with Jessika’s new manager. I’m technically not suppose to disclose it just yet, but I can tell you who she’s replacing in which band.” 

Kylo licked his too dry lips and ran over the back of his neck with the towel. “What are we looking at, Phas?” 

Phasma inhaled heavily, and knowing her it was probably for dramatic effect. “The Empire,” she hummed, quietly as if making sure no one would overhear her.

“The Empire?” Kylo echoed disbelievingly. “Talon is stepping down from _The Empire_?” What he didn’t ask was how the hell she had gotten on their radar, because he knew just as well as anyone that Jessika was a very talented woman indeed. He should have celebrated such a bold career jump. 

“Yup,” Phasma popped the p, “I’m not aware of all circumstances involved, but Talon chose to pass the torch to Jessika personally.” 

Kylo slouched forward on the bench, a hand covering half of his face as a torrential squall of emotions rose within him. Talon Lethan was stepping down from the empire, a woman spearheading a band she’d lead to the moon and back again for fifteen years. The very same band every single member of Knights of Ren listed in their Top 5 Bands I Look Up to and Have Been Inspired By. 

How were they supposed to compete with that?

“That’s…” 

There were no words.

“Yes,” Phasma understood the unspoken sentiment. “Do you…” She hesitated to continue. “Do you want me to see if there’s something I can dig up to help you find a new vocalist?” 

Jessika left Knights of Ren for The Empire. They were going to need all the help they could get.

“Every little bit helps,” Kylo said in a low croak. Maybe he’d try an extra 25 pounds and see if he could work his way up to 50? He would have been so proud of his friend had she not hid it from all of them and ran around behind their backs. Now Kylo was just bitter. Bereft. Betrayed.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Phasma offered, “but do please try to keep me up to date on any leads you are pursuing.” 

“Fine,” Kylo assented. He hung up before his manager could say anything else. It was a callous, petty act but right now it was the only thing keeping him from saying or doing something he most definitely should not. He threw his phone back into his gym bag, helped himself to several large gulps of water, and then tacked on an extra twenty-five pounds. The ensuing burn was very welcome at this point. 

“Cade!” Kylo called out to his neighbor, catching the man just in time as he sauntered out of the gym’s showers. “Can you spot me again for a bit?” 

The man shuffled, scratching an itch beneath his chin as he checked the time. “Alright, I got some time to kill.”

*        *        *

It was almost midnight when Finn sat back in his computer chair, phone clenched in his hand as he stared disbelievingly at the text displayed. It was some strange hybrid of what should have been a dream, but could have been a nightmare instead. He pressed a hand to his chest and took a deep breath, feeling his heart beat for a few seconds before he looked to his phone again.

 **Kylo Ren:** _Pava’s replacing Talon as the frontwoman of The Empire._

There was nothing stopping Finn from being happy for the woman he had once considered a dear friend. They had made wonderful music together, and the way Jessika sang moved even him, who stood behind her on stage and accompanied her powerful voice. He who had worked beside her and knew her best was able to watch her ascend to heights even he hadn’t fathomed himself. 

Finn should have been thrilled for Jessika, but instead all he felt was a resounding hollowness in his chest. He couldn’t even think of any words to text back to Kylo, and instead locked his phone with a heavy breath. 

“Poe, are you still awake?” Finn called out behind him. An affirming grunt came from the next room over, and Finn leapt from his chair to go see his roommate and bandmate’s reaction. “Did you get a message from Kylo?” 

“Haven’t checked my phone yet,” Poe hummed. He had a Kindle in hand, one of the new Paperwhite ones meant to mimic the actual experience of reading a book as closely as possible. “Is it important?” 

Finn chose not to directly answer his question. “You might want to.”

Brows furrowed, Poe set his Kindle aside and reached for his phone plugged into its charger on his nightstand. He swiped the screen a couple of times, face lighting up in the darkness. Finn watched the play of shadows carve out the height of his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw and the aquiline bridge of his nose. The shadows seemed to grow longer as Poe’s mouth turned downward into a frown, eyes moving to and fro as he read the text message from Kylo over and over again.

“Wow, that’s…” 

“Never would have imagined that one, would you?” 

“If I had a list of things I could never imagine, this would be so far in left field it wouldn’t have even made the list,” Poe said. Finn managed to laugh despite himself. He supposed that’s what Poe was going for, though. 

“The Empire…” Finn tested it out on his tongue, uncertain what to make out of the flavor of his emotions. The list of all the things The Empire had accomplished in its fifteen long years was astounding and carried a weight all its own. Now, Pava would be spearheading them forward to even greater things than Talon Lethan herself. It wasn’t so much unfathomable as it was...mind-boggling. Finn had always imagined Jessika with them, with Knights of Ren, and dreamed of one day reaching the number of accolades The Empire presently held. “We should be happy for her, I guess.” 

Poe picked up his Kindle again, making a wry face as he did so. “We should.” He said in a way that meant he didn’t feel that way. “I guess this just means we’ll need to double down our efforts in finding a suitable replacement. Everyone’s going to be looking at us as Jessika’s old band. We need to put a strong front forward.” 

Hearing those words was like watching Poe clothe himself in battle armor, so unlike him that Finn couldn’t find the words to say. Had Jessika’s departure left that deep a wound where she’d ripped herself free of them? 

(Do you even have to ask?) 

“We’ll be okay,” Finn instead murmured, nodding his head resolutely. Knights of Ren had started from the bottom to get to where they were right now. Bands lost and gained members all the time. Hell, even The Empire, Jessika included, had only one member that was part of the original line-up. So many people had been part of The Empire’s legacy. Surely, Knights of Ren could survive this too? 

Finn had to believe that with everything in him. 

Poe looked up from his Kindle, and the tenseness in his shoulders melted away at seeing Finn’s stark resolution. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We’re gonna be just fine, kid.” A tinkling of bells distracted him momentarily as his adorably fluffy and fat pet cat struggled to jump on the bed. Reaching over to help BB, which stood for Big Baby or Big Bitch depending on her mood, had become habit the few short weeks it had been necessary. She curled up on Poe’s lap, looking nothing more than a giant orange and white ball.

( _“No more late night sexcapades for you, BB,” Poe had tsked at the vet’s office. Eight kittens, his cat was weeks away from having eight fucking kittens. He’d need to have a stern talk with his sister the next time he left for tour and left BB in her capable care._

_“You could just get her fixed,” Finn had stated pointedly._

_“She’s like eight months old, and she’s about to have eight kittens! Eight! What the hell!”_ )

A smirk betrayed the solemnity of the room. “Christ, Poe, I’m like two years younger than you, not a fucking kid.” It was an age old thing between the two of them, but it did what it needed to do. Finn reached down to pat BB’s head, and her ears flattened reproachfully against her head. Big Bitch it was, then. She was hardly Big Baby to anyone aside from Poe, it seemed. 

“Get some rest,” Poe suggested, hand absently petting BB’s swollen form. She didn’t react, if anything she seemed to welcome the touch. Tch. 

“Alright,” Finn feigned reluctance. 

He wasn’t going to sleep tonight until he found _something_. And oh, the things he did find. 

 

Eight in the morning wasn’t an unusual time for the band to get together, but when no plans were to be had, to drag them out of bed on such a rare opportunity to sleep in was a bit unfair. Kylo, a typical morning bird, had been up late into the night scouring potential options to fill the empty spot the Knights of Ren now had at the front of the stage. He had an emergency cup of coffee from a quaint cafe down the street in hand, his usual with an extra shot of espresso, but couldn’t find the energy to meet the blinding exuberance from his fellow guitar player.

Finn was a picture of a child vibrating with the sheer delight for life that children were wont to have, spinning in the chair in front of the band’s computer. “So glad for you all to join me this beautiful morning,” he drawled as soon as Hux, the last member to enter, had claimed his usual spot.

“You know what else was beautiful? The back of my eyelids,” Poe grumped, head back and eyes half-lid with the effort of resisting sleep. His words bore no venom and did not dampen Finn’s enthusiasm in the least.

“So’s mine! But I haven’t seen them in almost twenty-four hours. You act like we’ve never gotten up this early before,” Finn quickly returned, then cleared his throat. His lack of sleep was painfully obvious in the way his eyes were bloodshot, thoughts and speech erratic as he jumped from topic to topic. Plus, in a way natural to only Finn, he became deliriously energetic when deprived of sleep. “Anyway, I called you all here because I have found the solution to all of our problems.”

“You found the Holy Grail?” Kylo rolled his eyes. Poe had too smart a mouth on him, but when deprived of sleep that mouth gave way to a razor sharp tongue that lashed out every chance it could.

“Better,” Finn said, spinning back around to the computer. “I found Jessika’s replacement.” He pulled up a YouTube tab and pressed the replay button on a video, maximized the screen (gods bless technology, Kylo thought as he marvelled at the beauty of their new 27” 4K monitor), and sat back.

The screen was dark but gave way to a small recording room, walls covered with posters that weren’t granted enough screen time to make out. There was a guitar, an ebony Epiphone Les Paul, in the background—Matt Heafy’s custom design, if Kylo had to guess—and when the riff rolled in, Kylo sat up and leaned in. It was soft and then crescendoed into a billowing wind, intense and like a storm before the eye appeared and gave way to the dulcet voice of a young, tan-skinned girl standing in front of a microphone.

Her voice was sweet and high, her notes carrying and a riveting vibrato giving way to the storm of guitars again. The video flashed to sequences of her playing guitar, this one a purple Ibanez S Prestige, tapping out the beats like a metronome, and then her vocals were back in a way that sent him for a loop. This girl, whom he could not name, opened her mouth and roared from the depths of herself like some primordial being.

A quick glance around the room revealed to Kylo that the remaining Knights of Ren were rapt, though Hux’s eyes had a fraction more white around the irises than usual.

When this girl sang, she was like a siren luring sailors to the furthest depths of the ocean, and that wasn’t an inaccurate comparison. Her growls, wild and untamed, revealed the truth of the beast in her, and the moment the song was over, Kylo released a breath he hadn’t known was trapped inside his chest.

“That,” Finn began once the silence got too loud in that weird white noise way, “is Rey. She’s from Westminster, but moved to Phoenix after spending three semesters at Berklee. She describes herself as a lover of music, and her channel mostly consists of Pop Gone Metal covers like this one. Rey also has a playlist called _Scream Like A Girl_ , which is pretty self-explanatory.”

Finn stopped just long enough to pull up another video then said, “If you’re not sold already, then let me show you this…”

Finn pressed play, and within the first split second he recognized the notes from a song of their own. An older one, but one of the ones that had brought in a flux of attention. A few seconds of a darkly luring tune gave way to the crisp roll of both Finn and Kylo’s guitar parts, but as Kylo was learning about Rey, she recorded every sound herself. The sound was different because it was her sound, not the Knights of Ren, but it was still the band’s song.

The Ocean’s Heart was one of Knights of Ren’s heavier songs, a haunting melody with an emphasis on screaming vocals. One of the elements that really made the song what it was was the soft, sweetness of Pava’s clean voice—or in this case, Rey’s—splashed over the song like a gossamer curtain. It was a delicate note of eerieness, of spectral vibratos that were too oft described as the kind of subtle, gut-triggering thing that raised the hairs on the back of one’s neck.

Rey’s diction was solid, her breathing technique belying the experience she must have gained from her time at Berklee. The video, while clearly edited and the track pre-recorded, showed a lot in the way of her prowess, but something in Kylo itched for a proper demonstration of her immense skill and abilities.

The song came to an end abruptly, just as they’d written it and it couldn’t have gone any better with the way Kylo likened her to a siren. The frigid waters of the sea exploded around him as he was plunged deep down, goosebumps dotted along his arms. This was _exactly_ how he imagined the song when he and Jessika sat down and wrote it, and seeing that this Rey girl was able to nail it down just as Pava herself had appealed to him greatly.

“That,” Poe started, “was fucking wicked. I hope I won’t need to sever an arm and a leg because I’m sold.”

“That,” Kylo echoed the band’s drummer, though whether it was meant to tease Poe or was a reflection of the same awe he too felt even he was uncertain of, “was a really good cover.”

“The Ocean’s Heart is a difficult song to grasp, concept wise,” Hux said. How the hell was he the only one not left speechless? “We did something very specific when we wrote that song and I think it speaks volumes that Rey not only nailed it, but she nailed it as herself. Not as trying to be Pava.”

Poe threw his hands out, halting any words that anyone might have said. “Okay, to be perfectly rational about this, she’s good. Rey is really fucking good. The girl has talent and skill, and her time at Berklee is impressive and worth making note of.” 

“Rey has been singing and taking vocal lessons since she was six years old according to her bio. Hated the piano,” Finn injected from his spot, perusing through the multitude of Rey’s YouTube videos.

“Jackpot!” Poe exclaimed.

Hux, impressed, murmured his two cents, “A talent cultivated since youth. Impressive.”

“Impressive indeed,” Kylo concurred. “She enunciates well, appears to have good breathing, which is extremely important. We all remember how Pava was until she learned to breathe properly.”

“She passed out every other performance,” Finn muttered.

Kylo continued, “Breathing is extremely important, especially in any type of unclean vocal for that reason alone. To be frank, I think we’d be idiots not to consider her.” A cursory glance around the room showed Poe, Finn, and Hux nodding in agreement. Pava’s departure had done its damage, and one thing the Knights of Ren made sure to do was always discuss and make decisions together.

“Excellent. How did you find her?” Kylo asked.

“YouTube,” Finn started, drawing out the last syllable. “I found her in the related videos section while going through a bunch of covers of our songs by others. Funnily enough, I had to scour her channel before I found a couple of our songs. So we definitely wanna give her the time of day, right?”

“I literally cannot come up with a reason not to,” Hux said. Beside him, Poe shrugged helplessly. The look on his face said they really would be idiots to not consider her.

“Does Rey have some way to contact her?” Kylo asked.

“A business email is listed in her bio. And, also according to her bio, she is currently unaffiliated with any long-term projects at the moment so we’re in the clear, I think,” Finn chirped.

“Good, you can take that straight to Phasma and make her an offer.”

“About that… done and done.” Finn gave him a poor attempt at a sheepish grin.

Kylo blinked owlishly. “Did you clear this with Phasma at first at least?” It didn’t bother him that Finn would have already gone ahead and taken initiative, especially not with a potential replacement as impressive as this Rey was from two videos alone. 

Finn slowly shook his head, his blindingly white grin still going strong. 

Kylo scratched the back of his neck with a sigh. Provided that Phasma’s desk wasn’t littered with work to be done from any of the other bands she managed for the record label, she wouldn’t be too bothered by this...slight oversight. “I’ll leave it up to you to clue Phasma in,” he quipped.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Finn waved him off. “First, I need you to see all these amazing covers she’s done! And this video that she wrote music for all by herself. Christ, she’s fucking amazing…” 

Poe sighed and covered Finn’s mouth with his hand. “You, my friend, have got to get some sleep. I’ll go talk to Phas, you sleep, then we’ll just...we’ll bide our time and go about our days as usual, alright?” 

Finn’s mouth frowned behind Poe’s hand. “...Okay,” he agreed reluctantly, voice muffled. 

“Great, now get your jacket on and go out to the car. I’ll drive you back to the apartment. So you can _sleep_.” 

Finn stood up and saluted him, and somehow the whole thing was so utterly ridiculous to him that he cracked up and couldn’t stop. “I _really_ —am—tired,” he managed to get out in between bouts of laughter.

“Yep.” Poe zipped Finn up in his coat and pushed him out the door, glaring back at Hux and Kylo as they shared a mutual look of amusement and knowing between them. 

“Good luck,” Hux snickered. 

“You’ll remember to get a hold of Phas, right?” Kylo asked after elbowing the bassist.

Poe called back, “Soon as I put Finn to bed.” The door shut behind him, leaving both Hux and Kylo in the band’s studio with Rey’s YouTube channel pulled up on their computer. 

Kylo motioned to the chair. “After you?” 

Hux moved too quickly, betraying his carefully hidden interest. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

As the two of them perused her videos, Kylo couldn’t help but smile to himself. If this is what hope felt like, he was optimistic about Knights of Ren’s future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! I originally started writing this with the band’s name being The Force Awakens, but I changed it for two reasons. First, I discovered a theory on the meaning behind Kylo Ren’s name and decided to fit that into the fic. Second, which does tie in with the first a bit, is that it’s extremely common for band members to adopt part of the band’s name as theirs, i.e. Chris Motionless from Motionless in White, Lzzy Hale from Halestorm, and so on. Both reasons also contribute to why I decided not to go with Ben Solo.
> 
> [The Ocean's Heart.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zukCw8OQXoQ)
> 
> For those that may be wondering: yes, The Empire is supposed to be analogous with Arch Enemy. Knights of Ren, however, is a bit more original. But since this fic is admittedly indulgent as hell, I will probably be referencing lots of bands and songs and will try to explain and/or link to them. :) 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read the first chapter. A special thanks to all those that left kudos and comments, you're all a delight. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint anyone! Next chapter should be getting more into things from here on out, and I hope you'll be joining me along the way. 
> 
> P.S. You can find me on [Tumblr](http://burntseas.tumblr.com/)! I love to make new friends and chat. ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

  
_"Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life."_ \- Berthold Auerbach

It wasn’t the most eloquent thing ever, but the email had done its job: hook, line, sink. Ensnared by a promise, lured by temptation, and guided by opportunity, a hand had reached out to her and Rey had snatched it up with greedy hands. She’d be a fool turning her back on herself if she didn’t.

It was called a dream for a reason—it stayed in your head, a loop endlessly on repeat, and was nothing short of pure fantastical nonsense. Sense didn’t matter, it was just a dream never meant for anything greater than the cage of one’s skull. As much as Rey yearned to be able to stand on stage and face countless people in a crowd, to share her voice with the world, it was a dream—her dream. 

YouTube was a magnificent creative outlet for her fantastical musings, and a way to practice and hone her skills. Rey liked to imagine herself being at the helm of a world-renown band someday, but those imaginings were oft kept to herself. A childhood in poverty and lacking in a proper home and family had taught her to never ask for more than what you deserved. Did Rey deserve to be a musician, one part of a cohesive unit that worked in tandem to take the world by storm? Never make assumptions—another crucial lesson of her childhood, and so instead of putting herself on a pedestal, she stayed safely on the ground.

At first, Rey hadn’t the slightest inkling how to react to the email she’d gotten. It wasn’t the first of its kind, that was for certain, but as Google was her friend that she utilized quite often… A simple search lead her to a conclusion she couldn’t have imagined in her wildest fantasies, one that almost ruined her very nice keyboard when she’d knocked over a glass of water in shock as she clapped both hands over her gaping maw. 

She had seconds of fluttering around her apartment like a lost bee to clean up the mess, running wet hands through her hair in nervous exasperation. 

It couldn’t be, could it? An email she’d gotten from someone who’s google account was realfinnboy just so happened to match the official confirmed Twitter handle of Finn Boyega, one of two guitarists for the band Knights of Ren.

How likely was it that it was real, that Jessika Pava was stepping down from her throne as the Queen of the Knights after building them up from nothing? How likely was it that it was some imposter seeking to humiliate her? (But wouldn’t they both be assumptions, too? Assumptions are Very Bad.)

So Rey did what she’d normally do when faced with such a quandary, she picked up her phone and called the most sensible woman she knew. A woman capable of banishing away the demons of her childhood. 

“Thank you for calling the law offices of Taske, Molin, and Erso. How can I help you today?” a prim man greeted her on the other line, familiarity relaxing her enough to let free the breath she’d held back. 

“Hey Pax, it’s Rey—is Nephele Erso available for a quick chat?” she asked, clearing her throat. 

Pax chuckled good-naturedly. “Your mother always has time for a quick chat with you, you know that. Why didn’t you call her personal line or her cell phone?” 

Rey shrugged, uncaring of the fact the paralegal (a glorified secretary for a lawyer, more like) couldn’t see it. “She’s a very busy woman, didn’t want to interrupt her if she was with a client.” A paltry excuse. This wasn’t a common occurrence and they both knew it.

Pax made a _hm_ noise in the back of his throat, but he transferred her to Nephele’s personal office nevertheless. It rang two times before it was picked up, in typical Nephele fashion, and the soft sternness of motherhood soothed the anxiety in her trembling spine. “Rey, is everything alright? You called the office.” 

Rey licked her too dry lips, reaching for her refilled glass of water to chase away the sudden dryness in her mouth. “I’m, um—” The water in the glass sloshed as it hit the table a bit too hard, but with her hands shaking, her lack of control over such a simple thing slipped drastically. 

“I—” 

A wave of emotion crashed over her in that instant, like a fierce tidal wave of frigid ocean waters. It pulled her under, stealing the breath from her lungs with a choked sound in the back of her throat. The tears followed like rain during a thunderstorm, pouring and pouring until her face was soaked and snot filled her sinuses. It became impossible to hold back her sobs at that point heaving shallow breaths at too fast a rate for her body to get the oxygen it needed. 

“Baby, are you having a panic attack?” Nephele Erso asked the question softly, a mother saddened by the suffering of her child that she was too far away to kiss better like a scraped knee. 

Rey managed to stutter through her tears, “Y—yes.” Invasive thoughts stabbed at her mind, and no matter how hard she shut her eyes, she couldn’t stop the litany of _not good enough—wasting everyone’s time—ungrateful brat—worthless waste of space—barely good enough for half a portion of rice—_

Nephele cooed on the other end of the line, a sound of sadness and distress. It pained her to hear Rey during the moments whenever she had flashbacks and episodes of a sparsely sufficient childhood of a girl lost in the inky depths of the foster system. “Rey Erso,” Nephele started in that motherly way that beckoned children forth, “I want you to try to take a nice, deep breath for me right now, okay?” 

Rey nodded wordlessly, struggling through the hyperventilation until she could take a single solid breath. It chased away the lightheadedness just enough for her to focus on what Nephele said next: 

“Can you tell me where you are? Describe for me five things you can see around you?” 

“M-my computer.”

“Is it the new Mac your father and I got you for your recording room, or is it the desktop in your bedroom?” 

“Rec room.” Recording was too big a word for Rey to say without stumbling over. 

Nephele encouraged Rey to continue with her task, finding things around her that she could see. Then touch. Hear. Smell. Taste. By the end of the list, Rey had stopped stuttering and wasn’t hyperventilating, though it would be awhile before the tears abated. It was a technique called grounding Nephele had been taught by Rey’s therapist from her teenage years, when the panic attacks had started and she’d been averaging at least one every day. Present day, Rey could go months, sometimes years, without a panic attack, but it was still routine enough for Rey that Nephele remembered exactly what to do. 

The crippling anxiety faded away as Rey wiped the last of her tears on a dirty shirt nearby and blew her nose. Laundry day was tomorrow anyway.

“Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?” Her mother asked, knowing it was crucial to shower her daughter with love and affection during the lows that followed. 

Rey sniffled as she slouched in her computer chair, her body unwilling to move to blow her nose again. “I got an email. With an offer.” 

“What kind of offer?” 

“One of a kind. A lifetime. My—my dreams…”

“Oh, sweetheart.” It all made sense to Nephele, so she did the only thing she could do: she reminded Rey that she was loved, that she was worthy, and that she had an amazing talent with her voice she had spent the vast majority of her life perfecting. Maybe Nephele was biased, but she was so goddamn proud of the little girl she’d adopted. “Rey Erso, you are one of the most important things in the world to me and your father. You are loved, and cherished, and we _wanted_ you so much when you came to us. Your father and I went into volunteer foster care to offer kids a good home after Jyn left to pursue her dreams, and while we didn’t expect to find you, we are so happy that we did. We are so happy we’ve been gifted with the opportunity to love you and watch you flourish into the woman you’re meant to be. 

“Chasing after your dreams is a struggle, Jynny will attest to that, but it’s well worth it in the end. You’re worth it, Rey. If this is a real opportunity to make your dreams reality, then you should take it. Grab the bull by the horns, as these Southerners like to say.” The switch from a crisp British accent to a poorly imitated Southern accent at the end of Nephele's statement did what it was meant to—Rey managed a quiet burst of laughter.

“I think you ought to go for it, baby,” Nephele said, tenderly as only a mother could. “I've been listening to you sing since the moment we took you in. With the voice of an angel, you'll go far.”

Rey's lips curled downward into a frown. “But what if—”

Nephele clicked her tongue. “You know my rule, you may not be in my house anymore but we don't do what ifs.” The realm of possibility meant nothing when it came to absolutes, a valuable lesson Rey had been raised on. Do, or don't. Yes, or no. No whatifs. No maybes. It was very black or white, but Rey had bore witness to the beautifully confident and headstrong woman her sister Jyn had become. There wasn't a single modicum of doubt in her absurdly pretty being.

“Yes, Mom.” Rey smiled.

“Excellent. Now you go do your thing and let me know how it goes, yeah?” There was no mother better than Nephele Erso, though one might say Rey was heavily biased in her opinion. Her mother had picked her, had wanted her for who she was.

Rey thanked her mother and hung up the phone, weathering through the strange chasm that was always left behind in the wake of a panic attack. There was a light guiding her through it, and soon she'd be ready to face the world with her wide grin and white teeth.

This time when Rey reread the email from Probably-Finn Boyega, there was a much different tone to her thoughts. She read it not from the perspective of an impersonator looking to make fun of her, but rather someone who’d seen her amazing potential and all of the amazing things possible.

> _Hi Rey!_
> 
> _What I’m doing probably goes against so many rules, but I hope that’s okay! My name is Finn and I’m a guitarist for a band seeking a new vocalist, and I’ve recently discovered your videos and I am floored!!! By how talented you are!!! Your bio says you’ve been taking vocal lessons since you were a kid and that you’ve been to Berklee’s College of Music, and the amount of skill you’ve amassed from such a well-cultured talent shows!!_
> 
> _I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m interested in further communication, but only if you’re interested in the opportunity to become the new frontwoman of a decently established band?? I’d tell you our name but I’m probably gonna get yelled at enough by our manager for emailing you anyway. I promise this isn’t like a joke or spam or anything!_
> 
> _Thanks for your time, really hoping to hear from you!!_  
>  -Finn, guitarist of a band  
>  A band that needs a vocalist  
>  That vocalist could be you  
>  (Srry I’ve been up all night watching your videos. God I hope that doesn’t sound creepy.) 

It was a full twenty-four hours before Rey could put together the words for a proper response; truth be told, she hadn’t the foggiest of where to begin. Is this too eager? Is that too disinterested? How do I meet comfortably in the middle of these extremes? Would it be presumptuous of me to outright ask if Finn-the-guitarist is Finn Boyega of Knights of Ren? Would it be too stupid of me to not ask at all?

“You’re overthinking this,” Rey grumbled aloud, fingers tapping the keys out of frustration. _Well, yeah,_ a part of her shot back. _Thank you, Captain Obvious._ This wasn’t a situation Rey could say she’d ever been in, so the lack of knowledge regarding any sort of etiquette left her frustrated and pulling out her hair. Her video was uploaded late, and her Earl Grey tea had gotten cold for the third time in the microwave because her thoughts were so consumed with obsessing over word choice.

In the end, Rey decided to hell with it. She managed to type back the best she was going to get, something flirting along the I’m excited but also cautious line. It was best she just sent it off before she agonized over how the hell to respond to something like that. Flirt relentlessly, the voice of her father reminded her. Flirt shamelessly. How else do you think Jynny got so far in her career? 

So Rey flirted like hell. She flirted the line and flirted with words. It would have to do, and while she waited, she would just have to hope that it wasn’t too much or too little.

Miraculously, a reply came within a few short hours. Rey didn’t have to bite her nails too much longer. It was an apology, this time not as heavy on the exclamation points but still sincere in the offer. _My band’s manager will contact you soon, officially and all that stuff._ Rey had barely a minute to herself before she received another email, this time from someone different.

Well. Rey took a deep breath as she read through the contents. It was definitely Finn Boyega that had emailed her, and it was definitely the Knights of Ren seeking to put her at the front of the band.

Oh, boy. Ohhh boy.

*        *        *

“Is there, like, some kind of protocol in this situation?” Hux asked his question with voice low, almost absent-minded as he read through the reply the band had gotten from their vocalist potential.

Phasma shook her head and threw the four men crowding her a look over her shoulder. Her office had plenty of room for them to occupy their own space, not hers thank you very much. “Pretend you’re a manager seeking to hire a new employee for your company,” Phasma started. “You have to be certain they will be good for you and your company, and that they will be a good worker. We just have to customize the interview process to fit the job.”

Hux nodded. “Alright, so we know she’s a technically proficient vocalist. Sounds sweet, but screams like a demon—in a good way,” he mused.

“But,” Poe interrupted, “this is just from what we can glean from her YouTube videos, which are all pre-recorded and may be edited to some extent. I’ve yet to hear anything overt like autotune, but for all we know, she sounds nice...thirty seconds at a time. Our live presence is a huge part of what draws the fans in. That goes for any band really, though.” 

It was easy to contact Rey. Her replies were always prompt and courteous, and there was a key note of downplayed eagerness that gave the members of Knights of Ren hope for their future. It was agreed that each one of them would be able to give Rey their own version of an interview, conducted via email. Her grasp of musical theory was impeccable, and much like Kylo Ren, she shared an unabandoned adoration of music that encompassed every moment of her life. Whilst metal was where she thrived and her creativity knew no boundaries, she had a favorite artist in almost every genre of music out there. Her soft spot for soft indie pop was her self-proclaimed ultimate weakness, and she was unabashed in mentioning her love of artists like Halsey and Ed Sheeran. 

The interview process took weeks, and during that time Knights of Ren had looked into a couple of other potentials. None of them, however, stuck out as much as Rey had, her name like a beacon beckoning them forth. Extensive emails became lengthy Skype video calls, and the topics of music began to bleed into everything else around them. Phoenix is achingly hot, Rey would often declare with a homesick malaise, but there’s something that’s kept me here. She didn’t mind talking about her YouTube channel and her videos, as diverse in topic they were. Making videos felt personal to her, and she loved the connection it gave her to viewers. Despite being content where she was, performing on stage as part of a unit had always been her dream. She was eager. Brilliant. Each passing conversation with her showed that they all clicked together in a way that was mellifluous in its ease. 

When Pava’s new band ( _The mother fucking Empire_ , of all the goddamned bands in the world it was _The Empire_ ) began pressing for a unified release date of Pava’s departure and joining, the Knights of Ren men knew they’d let themselves float free for too long. It was time to make a decision. 

Seating themselves at the round table once more, it was easy to pluck out a few notes and put together a song. With each spoken suggestion, each measure written, and each note melodiously strung together into something grand and a piece of them, it brought forth reminders of why they were all here. Why Knights of Ren was an essential, pivotal part of their lives. Why Jessika Pava’s departure wasn’t the end of something they’d created through years of blood, sweat, and tears—all of them, Poe and Finn and Kylo and Hux—but rather the end of a chapter. Here they were, penning the beginning of their future. 

After the song was written, they marched into the studio and put it together the best way they knew how. It was strange, recording without any lyrics or the sound of someone’s voice in mind, but this would be Rey’s first real test as a musician, to see what she could do when given something to work with. Would they sound good together? Neither of them were willing to admit it, but they were already dead set on Rey standing beside them, they just...they needed to be 100% certain this was going to work. 

Finn was the one who, in his abundant excitement, could not hold himself back from giving Rey a Skype call once he saw her online. “Rey!” he greeted her with palpable enthusiasm. Hux was quick to seat himself within her vantage, tossing the grinning brunette a wave. “I just need a few quick minutes of your time, it’s super important.”

Rey blinked, her image grainy and distorted on the screen. The studio’s wifi was oftentimes lackluster in performance, and the signal strength of their video call showed abysmal. “Alright,” she hummed. 

“Sorry to be dumping this on you so fast, but we were so excited.”

Hux teased, “You mean _you_ were so excited.” 

Finn cleared his throat, the coloring of his cheeks only obvious to Hux beside him. “Well, yes,” he admitted. “Nevertheless, this is important! We’ve decided to give you your first real test, Rey. Are you ready?” 

The girl’s eyes widened and she blinked owlishly. Intimidated was a word. “Oh, goodness, I’m so not prepared for this,” she laughed off her embarrassment. 

“You don’t need to be,” Hux reassured her as he watched Finn bring up the audio file of their new recording. 

Shortly before pressing play, Finn said, “Here’s a sample of your homework,” with the kind of grin only he could manage. Devious, playful, but altogether inherently innocent. 

The music started playing from their computers speakers, and after confirming that Rey could hear it, they let it play for about thirty seconds. It was newly recorded, little editing done, and so it lacked any of the finely polished finesse a usual song of theirs would have upon official release, but that was the point. This song was far from over, and it would be Rey’s job to contribute her part and bring it that one step closer to completion. 

Rey listened for those full thirty seconds, rapt with fascination. Her eyes had fallen shut, head nodding along to the beat of the music. Hux and Finn didn’t need to see Rey’s eyes to tell by the curl of her mouth that she enjoyed the taste she’d been given. The track was overall varied in pace and left so much room to do anything Rey might be able to fathom. 

“We’ll be sending this to your email shortly,” Hux told her as soon as Finn stopped the music. “We just want to see what you can do, test your composition skills. The only rule is to just use our track.” 

Rey gaped like a fish out of water before nodding her head vigorously. “Absolutely,” she agreed, a fierce determination ringing true in her voice. There was also a splash of awe coming from her, the kind that suggested maybe Rey hadn’t quite believed they were really considering her for Knights of Ren.

“Good luck!” Hux and Finn chorused, joined at the last second by Kylo and Poe. Poe had shot her a cheeky grin and a peace sign, meant to encourage her. They knew her voice inside and out, had watched most of her videos and had listened to her sing to them for hours at a time. It was her, they felt it deep in their bones, but oh Phasma would knock their heads together like a Newton’s cradle if they gave into their gut feelings prematurely. 

The Skype call ended on a note that had Rey’s chest tight as her heart fluttered maniacally within its confines. This was it, just one step closer to what might become the rest of her life. Could she do it? 

Rey had been doing her YouTube channel for almost four years now. It had started as a fun extracurricular project during her time at Berklee, but she found she attracted viewers like bugs to succulent fruits and had kept up with it. Her earlier videos were rough with inexperience, but as the years progressed she got to watch herself evolve. It was embarrassing to watch herself fumble awkwardly in front of a subpar camera and strum at her guitar, voice ringing true but the audio all sorts of awkward. Rey had not only become a better video editor, but most importantly, she was at the crux of her abilities as a musician. 

Could Rey do it? Could she write the vocals for an almost-finished song? 

Hell fucking yeah she could. So she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe y’all a huge apology for taking so long to get this update out. Real life has been very upsetting as of late, and as this is a very self-indulgent fic, I found it hard to indulge myself while in the midst of a deluge of sadness. I am also at the point where I wish I’d stuck with a previous approach for this fic. *stares at 10k discarded in lieu of this* So yeah, I admit that there is a struggle and it is very real right now.
> 
> I used a random [Star Wars name generator](http://www.dimfuture.net/starwars/random/generate.php) and picked Rey's adopted mother's name from the list. It sounded familiar, but I thought Neh-FELL rolled off the tongue real nice. Turns out Nephele (pronounced NEH-fell-y) is the Greek goddess of hospitality. #LilWriterThings
> 
> And yes, I did make Jyn Erso Rey's adopted sister because at one point, I was a big fan of the Jyn-is-Rey's-mother theory. It just seemed like a good idea to link all of the stories of Star Wars together. It's been debunked by Pablo Hidalgo, but whatever. I'm gonna have my fun with it because that's what fandom is about: FUN! :D
> 
> While on that note, I have a question for all of you wonderful little dears. ♥ I've been entertaining a few other AU ideas for Reylo fics, but I don't want to write them all lest I just not finish them. So I was hoping if I gave you brief synopses that y'all might vote and tell me which idea appeals the most to you? 
> 
> 1\. Modern!AU with celebrity!Kylo Ren and normal!Rey. Will include BDSM and baby(ies?)  
> 2\. Supernatural(nottheshow)!AU with Incubus!Kylo Ren  
> 3\. Borderlands!AU because fuck yeah
> 
> P.S. holla at me on [tumblr](http://burntseas.tumblr.com/).


	4. Chapter 4

  
_"Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything."_ \- Plato

_Fuck, I was not prepared for this,_ was Rey’s first thought when she stepped off the plane, a burst of cold air prickling her skin and juddering through her bones. Living much further south, over a thousand miles away, in a desert had Rey woefully underprepared for how to handle this biting cold that ached in her chest.

But here, a several hours long flight away, she emerged into a small city where the weather slipped through the fabric of her paper thin clothes in a fraction of a second. At least her toes were warm in her chunky boots, but she wasn’t sure what her little wind breaker was going to grant her in the way of warmth. Rey hadn’t even been to this city for five minutes and she didn’t like the strange fear of whether or not her breath would freeze in her lungs or not.

And to think there wasn’t even a trace of snow.

The solace of the airport was warm and welcoming as she went to claim her baggage, head held high and her swagger projecting far more confidence than she felt. Fortunately for her, it took ages for her luggage to drop and so she absorbed all the heat her body would allow as she hovered beneath a heating vent blowing hot air over her timid figure. But all too soon she had to greet the cold once more. Thankfully she was in a city that had its own bountiful cab service, and double-checking her pockets for a slip of paper, she inhaled deep, and stepped outside.

 _Think of it like a pool,_ Rey told herself, a silent mantra because fuck the cold. Seriously. _It’s going to be fucking freezing but you’ll adjust… I hope._

Hell, who was Rey trying to kid? There was a reason she’d moved to Phoenix.

A cab stopped in front of her and Rey breathed a sigh of relief. “Hi,” she greeted, passing over the crumpled paper from her pocket. “I need to get to this address, please.”

The cabbie agreed and the drive was silent all the way there, with Rey fidgeting in the backseat from sheer nerves. It was one thing to talk but it was another entirely to _do_. In mere minutes, she would be making or breaking the biggest, most important era of her life. Each second passed by, her reflection’s complexion decidedly more green in the rearview mirror.

The streets in this part of town were quaint and well-kept, though in constant use with a handful of passers-by and two storey homes with white picket fences. Another mile up the street gave way to more urbanization, a Dunkin Donuts next to an unmarked brick building that the cab slowed to a stop in front of. Rey checked the numbers, bright and gold by the door, to those written on the paper in her hand.

This was it.

“Thank you,” Rey said, swallowing past the wave of apprehension swelling in her throat. She dug into her bag to pay the driver and left a decent tip as she struggled outside, part because of her sweaty palms and also partly because she was just a klutz.

The cab drove off as soon as Rey closed the door, and with a deep, calming breath, Rey approached the building. It was plain, nondescript, and fit right in with the rest of the middle class neighborhood. It could be home, and if all went well...then it would be.

Rey fumbled around the door as she pushed the doorbell button, and then awkwardly knocked when there wasn’t a sound. Maybe it was broken—or maybe she was being ridiculous and just made herself an annoying pest in their sides. Time didn’t lend her much contemplation when the door opened immediately, giving way to white walls and medium grey carpeting. Before her stood a man near her height, olive skin with shaggy hair and stubble that showed grey hairs when he moved. 

Poe Dameron.

“Hi,” Rey breathed as her happiness and anxiety swelled into a potent miasma. “I’m Rey.”

The man grinned, eyes alight with mirth, and he said, “I know. Webcam interviews via Skype aren’t completely misleading, you know.”

Rey’s face burned with embarrassment. “Sorry. Poe, right? I’m just a little nervous. This is a pretty huge step for me.”

“Come on inside.” Poe stepped back and motioned her inside, locking the door behind her. “You’re a little bit earlier than we expected, we’re still missing one person.” He walked them down the hall, past two doors, and then added, “Kylo and Hux are in here. Finn should be here any moment but I don’t see why we can’t get started early.”

Rey smiled, clammy palms clutching at her bag. This was it. She’d flown over a thousand miles away from her home in the desert to meet these people and make the biggest change of her life. Hopefully, for the better.

All of her dreams were about to horribly crash and die or come true.

Poe opened the door and inside were two faces she’d seen before via Skype, though this time there wasn’t poor lighting and grainy webcam images to distract her from them. Their voices quietened the minute she stepped foot into the room and both stared expectantly at her for a long second, an eternity of its own. The red-haired man reclining in a swivel chair in front of an elaborate sound system was the first to move, drawing to his full height to greet Rey and shake her hand.

“Hux,” Rey greeted familiarly, smiling at him. _Please don’t notice my sweaty palms._ Then, she turned to greet the other man and shake his hand. “Kylo.” He reached for her with long limbs and large hands, nearly swallowing hers whole.

“It’s really awesome that you could make it,” Poe said, standing to her left. “I know asking you to fly a thousand miles away from home is a huge request, but we’re quite thrilled to be given this opportunity with you.”

Rey’s face flushed at the praise. “It’s me who should be thanking you guys, honestly. I never imagined in a thousand years that this kind of opportunity would ever arise. Just to be able to have your time and considerations means so much to me,” Rey babbles, and hope swelled inside her chest.

Hux reclaimed his seat and swivelled around to look at Rey. “You’re talented, your videos on YouTube have shown us this much. Mezzo-soprano vocals, a proficiency in both false cord and fry screaming, and your technique belies a proficiency most people don’t get without vocal coaching,” he says, and Rey tried not to let her pride show through too much.

“I’ve been in vocal lessons for as long as I can remember,” Rey admitted. “It was one of the few constants I’ve had in my life, being...in and out of foster homes and all that.”

Hux nodded. “Knights of Ren needs that. Our last vocalist, Jessika Pava, was self-taught and full of raw talent. We literally worked from the bottom up and we need someone who’s got the potential to fill in the shoes she’s left behind, especially since she’s moved onto The Empire. People are going to be looking at us as Pava’s old band and we’d like to take advantage of that attention. But we need something to hook them in, and so far, you’re...you’re it.”

“The only option,” a new voice cut in, and Rey whirled around to see a dark-skinned man with an easy-going demeanor. She hadn’t even heard the door open. He closed it behind him and moved to properly introduce himself to Rey, “Finn. Looking lovely as ever.”

Rey preened under the praise. “Thank you,” she said, albeit abashedly. It was easier for her to accept compliments when they related to her skills, because she’d worked hard to get where she was this exact moment, and she was so fucking _proud_ of that.

Kylo, the man who kept quiet, cleared his throat at Finn’s entry. He did something on the computer in front of him, switching between windows until he ended on what looked like the same program Rey used when she remixed covers for her YouTube channel. “Do you need to warm up?” he queried, a question to the point that startled Rey for a moment.

Right. Rey was there for a reason. “Yes,” she replied, the motions to the room on the other side of the glass wall. “I’ll get ready in there and review what I have if that’s okay?”

“The door’s unlocked,” Kylo hummed. “Take your time. Don’t worry about trying to impress us because you already have. We just need to know that we can creatively work well together.”

Rey nodded, and then dug into her bag to pull out what she’d need. She passed a copy to Kylo to share with the others and kept the original for herself, took a deep breath, and headed into the recording room. It was spacy, walls covered in a dark grey felt-like substance with a recording microphone hanging front and center in front of the glass wall.

The warm ups were easy and like muscle memory at this point, drills that she took her voice and throat through to ensure maximum performance. She had been at it so long she didn’t even feel silly anymore, because it was such a necessity that her throat would be fucked without it, and after several minutes she was ready.

Rey stepped up to the microphone, slipped on the headphones, and watched as the four members of Knights of Ren focused their attentions to her.

“Are you ready?” Poe asked, voice loud and clear in the headset and mouth curled in a smirk. 

Rey gave a thumbs up. “I was born ready,” she grinned.

Poe gestured to Kylo, and within a few moments the first few bassy beats of the audio track resonated within her as the music began. A guitar rift started off soft, muted almost, and crescendoed until it was joined by the lead guitar and together they harmonized and settled amicably in the pit of Rey’s stomach. She could do this, she’d been singing her heart out her entire life to lead her to this very moment.

Rey counted down the measures in her head, eyes closed and body swaying with the music. She breathed in slow and deep, holding it in her diaphragm before opening her mouth and letting out the first few notes. She’d rehearsed this so many times she had the entire thing memorized, her voice soft and quiet as the music relaxed and then everything came together with an intensity that filled her wholly. These were her words, her voice, and she’d written this just for them. They’d given her the track, just music laced together with riffs and percussion and the smooth rumbling bass pulling everything together to see what she was made of. 

And oh did Rey show them, transitioning from the somber opening of the song to deep growls reverberating in her chest. It wasn’t stagnant for very long, switching things up quite a bit every so often. This song was a test, one she’d decided push herself to her limits, to show what she was capable of and she couldn’t bring herself to regret a single second of it. Rey had _fun_ melding with the music, feeling the percussion beat in time with her pulse, and showing off the one thing she’d spent almost her entire life cultivating into fine art.

Through and through, Rey was a vocalist at the end of the day. If it meant using her voice, there was a strong chance that she’d given it a shot, she’d opened herself up to shine with all the light she was made of. This song, the words and her voice, were the one chance she had to prove herself to them and she was gonna go out with a bang if she was going out at all.

With ten years under Knights of Ren’s belt, they’d build themselves a name and a reputation to follow. They surely weren’t The Empire by a long stretch, but everything they were, they had crafted themselves from the dust of long-dead stars and iron and themselves. Rey needed to prove herself worthy of that name, that legacy, to prove herself able to carry the torch that Jessika Pava’s name ignited in her wake.

The bridge of the song built up and she stepped back to let the heavy riffs fill the room around her. A deep growl ripped from her throat and she held it, let it taper off into the music and bleed into the chorus once again. She sang and sang until the song ended and she was surrounded by silence, her pulse wild in her throat with the thrill and high of music.

Rey had given them everything, and waiting was all that was left.

Knights of Ren animatedly spoke to one another, though no sound came through Rey’s headset. Trapped in the silence, her stomach flipped and flopped and her breath stuttered in her chest as she waited. Finn, the first person to reach out to her, was animated with bright, wild eyes. He beamed as he motioned to her, head aggressively rising and falling. Poe’s grin matched Finn’s, though Hux and Kylo were hard to get anything from. 

Their chatter continued for a handful of minutes before Hux turned toward her and beckoned her forth to them. If their time on Skype taught Rey anything, it was that Kylo was the type to keep himself under lock and key, but Hux looked...optimistic, was a word.

Rey vibrated as she entered the sound room again, hands restless as she played with her fingers.

Finn exploded as he embraces her. “I knew you’d never disappoint!” he exclaimed. “That was phenomenal. We reviewed the lyrics and the amount of emotion you manage to convey with your voice is unbelievable!”

“Your composition skills are irrefutably amazing,” Poe started as soon as Finn closed his mouth. “We knew you were talented going in and we’re not disappointed. You managed to take our track and write interesting lyrics and tie it together with your compelling abilities. Combined with what we wrote, it all comes together so beautifully. I love it.”

It was Hux’s turn to speak, and he motioned to Finn and Poe with a haphazard flick of his wrist. “The two of them have pretty much said everything that needs to be said. I was impressed from the second Finn found your cover of our song Force and insisted we had to contact you. I’m quite optimistic about the future.”

Finally, Kylo Ren brought up the rear with his own words. “You know, I don’t think this song will need much editing, if any at all,” he started, voice quiet and deep. “But I also think you wrote it that way. And, like Poe said, you wrote it to show off all the things you’re capable of. That much is clear. Instead of being tacky and too much at once, you managed to weave everything together in a way that works. It sounds good. We all like it.”

There was an unheard but, so Rey accepted the praise and waited with baited breath.

“I think, at this point, our choice is ninety percent certain, so we need to make it that last ten percent. Your voice is great, your composition works, and together we’ve managed to create two separate things that come together into one fucking awesome thing.”

“Thank you.” Rey was humbled by Kylo’s praise. As the founder of Knights of Ren, his input meant the most concerning the band. It was no secret that he had the most say on anything the members did, that both Kylo and Jessika Pava were the main composers for the band’s music. Without Pava it was just Kylo now, and they had to be able to work well together for her to secure her place within Knights of Ren.

“You’re here for a week, right?” Rey nodded, and Kylo’s lips twitched upwards into a smirk. “Then let’s make some fucking music.”

*        *        *

A week spent making music was the best kind of week to have, this Rey learned from firsthand experience. Her stay consisted mainly of her taking up residence at Kylo’s spacious two bedroom apartment, but his second bedroom was a personal recording studio so that left her with the couch. It was a damn comfortable couch, too. “Sometimes I think it’s better than my bed,” Kylo had confessed.

Maybe it was better than Rey’s bed, too.

When they weren’t making music, he showed her around the city. Rey’s best meal to date had been a dinner at a Peruvian restaurant, and that alone had Rey considering if the move would be worth it.

Making music with Kylo Ren was… _wow_. Rey had never imagined that music could flow so easily from her with another person by her side, how eagerly the pieces came together when she and Kylo bounced ideas off each other back and forth. “How does this sound?” Rey would ask, or she’d tell Kylo the riff would sound better if he utilized palm muting.

Kylo never hesitated to tell her what he thought, but he always listened to what she had to say even if he wasn’t quite fond of it. Her ideas, he told her, were different but intriguing nonetheless. Almost ten years his junior, she had a certain youthful exuberance on her side that translated beatifically into the notes. Her perspective also differed so much from Pava that Kylo took great pleasure in the fact he couldn’t even begin to predict where the music would take her, and ultimately, the both of them. 

Over the week, Rey took the time presented to make a study of the man that may, for all intents and purposes, be her next boss. Silence was often his companion, an old friend he greeted amiably, but when it came to music, he never seemed to have enough words. First thing in the morning, he brewed a pot of dark roast coffee, offered some to Rey—

(“I’ve...never had coffee before. Which is weird because I’ve been in the States for almost five years now,” Rey admitted abashedly, accepting the proffered cup with definitive interest. The smell was heavy and permeated, nothing at all like the vast variety of teas she’d grown up with her entire life. She took a small sip, let the flavor roll over her tongue, and then helped herself to a little bit more. It was bitter, pungent in not necessarily a bad way, but it wasn’t entirely dissimilar to tea. It was just...quite a bit more intense.

In the end, Rey gave cream and sugar a try and while it appeased her sweet tooth, she found black coffee was her preferred way to take it. Kylo Ren smiled at that, thick lips curling upwards and a light glinting in his eyes. He was rather pleased with himself.)

—and then he showered. His showers were exactly thirteen minutes long (was that such a strange thing to notice?, Rey pondered), and when he got out he dresses in comfortable clothes and made breakfast. His apartment was right over a gym and, after breakfast, he invited Rey down. She got in free because she came in with Kylo and the landlord, who owned the entire building, offered a generous discount (that was to say, nigh non-existent) for tenants.

To say Rey was thrilled at being able to keep up her gym routine so far from home was an understatement. It was a relief to be able to dive right back into it, her body twisting and turning with practiced motions focused on increasing her endurance and stamina. Working out was cathartic for Rey, there was so much to be said the way it left her feeling boneless and _accomplished._

Kylo, on the other hand, had a routine that focused on strength training more than endurance, so it wasn’t a surprise at all when he was the one who had to call it quits. “You’re a fucking beast,” he huffed at her, a darkly amused chuckle bursting from his chest. His approval, no matter how small, meant the world to Rey.

She tucked a curl of mahogany behind her ear and admitted, “I started working on my stamina to help my voice. I was just starting to teach myself to scream with only a copy of _The Zen of Screaming_ and found it helped out immensely. Sometimes I sing while I work out, but I figure if we’re making music today I don’t want to kill my throat.” A short chortle followed.

Kylo inclined his head. “Not a bad idea.” 

They traipsed back upstairs after cold showers in the locker room to soothe their muscles, putting ideas they’d tossed back and forth at each other onto paper. Some of them didn’t go anywhere worth pursuing, but after a few tries they’d found something tangible coming to life between them. 

When it came to music, Kylo Ren transformed from a quiet man into a passionate one. He became someone that loved dearly and wholly, putting a piece of himself into every scratch of pencil on the paper. He was married to the music, simply put, and his dedication was inspiring.

By the end of the week they’d loosely fleshed out two songs, and all they need to do was share it with the band to insert the final stitches. Kylo arranged for everyone to meet in the studio at 7am sharp and warned everyone to be prepared for a long day, Rey’s entire body vibrating with the energy flooding her veins.

The music, with Finn and Poe and Hux with their instruments adding that little piece of themselves to the songs, melded in only the way that it could. The song was part of each of them in its own way like their music had never been before, and after the track was edited and re-edited, Finn and Poe howled at the top of their lungs as soon as the last notes of the song faded away.

It was a hit. Rey’s dreams were all coming true.

*        *        *

The return to Phoenix was, regrettably, unavoidable. While the decision as to whether or not Rey would become the new frontwoman of Knights of Ren had yet to be decided, she returned to her apartment with her head held high and spirits soaring. On the flight back, she’d placed the songs they’d created onto a playlist all their own and listened to them non-stop. It was unfathomable, that this kickass music was something she’d helped to create. It was a bit different from the style Knights of Ren was well known for, but not only was that was to be expected, it was still the pure fucking metal their fans had come to know and love at its core.

Over the next several days, Rey listened to the entire discography of the band. From their lackluster Starkiller demos (a gift from Hux), the band’s music had one thing in common throughout the years as it grew and became the sheer wickedness it was now: passion. Rey played the entire discography on repeat until she could sing every word in her sleep, and then some. The band didn’t contact her much over the course of a handful of days, but at least Finn had been kind enough to offer an apology and inform her that Poe’s cat had given birth to eight kittens. He’d even regaled her with pictures, and they were just the cutest fucking things.

On day six, Rey filmed a new installment of her _Scream Like a Girl_ cover series when Skype informed her of an impromptu video call from Hux. In the split second that the alert appeared on her screen and she answered it, her heart fluttered wildly and leapt into her throat. She had to swallow it back down to calm herself.

The video stream took a few seconds to load (awful studio internet, goodness they really needed to fix that), but as soon as it was clear, the first thing Rey saw was Finn and Poe blowing streamers. Beside him, Hux and Kylo shared expressions of ill-suppressed amusement as they set off their obnoxious poppers.

“Congratulations!” the four of them chorused together, and they laugh at Rey’s startled, wide-eyed expression. “Welcome to the Knights of Ren!” 

“Oh my _gods_ ,” Rey breathed, dizzy with glee. She clasped her hands over her mouth, uncertain of whether or not she could trust her tongue. There were too much yet not enough to be said.

“We, Knights of Ren, would be greatly humbled if you would accept our offer to join us on stage,” Kylo said as soon as the others’ quietened their antics. His words conveyed a lilt of mirth, but they also carried the great weight of promise behind them. 

Rey managed to stammer out, “Of _course_.” Truly, she would be the honored one.

“We looked into a couple of other prospects,” Hux admitted. In the background Poe cleaned up the mess of party poppers and streamers. “But Finn was dead set on you being the perfect match as soon as he saw one of your covers. I have to admit, kid’s got some insight-”

“Hey!” came Finn’s indignant shout in the background. Rey grinned because yes, this was going to work and it was going to be fucking awesome.

“-and I don’t want to think about where we’d be without you.”

Rey tried her damnedest not to cry, but her eyes were misty and the figures on her monitor screen blurred—not because of the terrible internet this time. “Thank you so much, guys,” she whispered reverently. Those words didn’t feel like enough but it was all she could find to say in the midst of the cacophony of her mind.

It was hard to hold herself together when all she wanted to do was break down and cry (fuck hormones, seriously), but she listened, attention rapt as Kylo jumped into the legal stuff. They’d need to fly her out again to discuss everything in depth and for her to sign a contract. Joining a band where the rest of the members lived over a thousand miles away was a daunting prospect, but thanks to the modern wonders of technology, this was going to work. 

The Knights of Ren was to be her flagship and she was ready to stand at the helm and steer them forward into another decade of pure fucking metal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a bit off with notes for this fic, so here are some random tidbits:  
> 1\. For any curious about references, I imagine Rey's voice to [sound like Alissa White-Gluz](https://youtu.be/VDLZ6Mqy7AM?t=3m23s), mezzo-soprano, except a bit sweeter like [Alexis Brown](https://youtu.be/BH17NvMYMuo?t=44s). For beastly unclean vocals, [Tatiana from JINJER's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a98LI-arNS4) mid-range false chord screams have been my inspiration. For Jess, I imagine [Lzzy Hale's cleans](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49tpIMDy9BE) and [AWG's uncleans](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKrXeRDLbMg) respectively.  
> 2\. I imagine Rey's YouTube channel to have a variety of videos, closely inspired by YouTube artists Linzey Rae and Jared Dines.  
> 3\. I apologize if anything is off factually. I've researched to the best of my ability, but I'm also gonna fly my artistic license flag pretty high. Still, if I've got something horribly wrong, or if I made a typo, please let me know! This fic doesn't have a beta, I just give it a quick once over as I add HTML before I post it lol. 
> 
> _The Zen of Screaming_ is a real DVD made by [Melissa Cross](https://www.melissacross.com/), it is widely considered the bible for proper metal vocal techniques. Melissa Cross is a prominent vocal coach and has coached the most extreme metal talents (Cory Taylor of Slipknot, Randy Blythe from Lamb of God, Angela Gossow formerly of Arch Enemy) to artists like Sara Bereilles and even the Transiberian Orchestra. Check out dat clientele list on her website tho
> 
> Thank you so much to the people who're still reading this indulgent mess of a fic. :)) I'll be working on another fic on the side because, as I neglected to mention when this was initially brought up, I only have a vague idea for where I want this fic to go and only to a certain extent. After I reach that point I don't know if there will be an actual plot, or if this fic will become a series of installments able to stand on their own, but still part of the same universe. 
> 
> Thanks babes, I hope you all have a lovely day! *blows kisses* ♥ I appreciate every hit, kudos, comment, and bookmark. Don't be afraid to hit me up on [tumblr](http://burntseas.tumblr.com/), I love to blab. (^_^)


	5. Chapter 5

  
_"Do you know that our soul is composed of harmony?"_ \- Leonardo DaVinci

“I always knew you were meant for great things.” 

Maz Kanata, tiny and wrinkled with sun and age, had eyes too big for her face. It had given her a certain wisdom—all the other waiters and waitresses and even the maitre d’ had jested that there was little, if much of anything, that Maz did not see. 

It would seem this was not much of an exaggeration, if it was one at all.

Rey tucked her chin against her chest, face burning with some indecipherable mix of emotions. It wasn’t embarrassment or shame, but perhaps some strange excess of humbleness. This made one of the few times she’d cursed her workplace’s strict uniformity, hating that her hair was pulled back so tightly from her face in a tight chignon. What she wouldn’t give to be able to hide behind it right now.

“Thank you.” Rey cleared her throat awkwardly, uncertain of what else she could possibly say. _Thank you_ was too simple, too concise for all the rife emotions brimming inside of her. Those words meant everything, and yet they meant nothing. 

Maz clicked her tongue and drew a sharp hiss, shaking her head. “Don’t thank me for your success. You had the feather inside you the entire time, Dumbo.” 

Rey barked a sharp, jarringly loud laugh but caught herself silent. Trust Maz to see all and know all. “You sure do have a way with words, Maz,” she settled on saying, shaking her head with amusement. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without your unending wisdom.” 

Maz told her, “You’re gonna live your life the way you have been. Don’t set this old bag of bones on a pedestal, I’ll just fall off and break in thirty places all over the floor.” 

Goddamn Maz, Rey wanted to say, but instead whirled around at the shout of her name. A fellow waitress poked her head into the kitchen. “Rey, table 17 is ready for dessert. I gave them their menus already, so just be ready.” 

Rey saluted her coworker, then turned to Maz with one last smile. It wouldn’t be the last time ever that she saw the old cook, but it was her last night as an employee of the restaurant. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Maz snorted. “Go out there and get you some heavy tips, a little extra money on a cross-country flight is never a bad idea.” 

Rey smiled fondly at the woman. “Just because you asked me.” As she left the kitchens, she turned back just in time to see Maz tossing handfuls of marjoram into fresh ground pork. Her only regret leaving Phoenix might be that she’d never get a sausage biscuit sandwich from this amazingly talented chef for a very long time. She’d also miss the hustle and bustle of their famous breakfast buffet. 

Damn, she was going to miss it all, wasn’t she? 

The restaurant was as good to her on her last night as it had ever been, the customers pleasant and their tips plenty. It had to be one of the most lucrative nights Rey had ever worked there, top 5 at least. The money was a weighty reassurance on her person as she stayed up late into the night, packing everything she thought she could need. It was terrifying to think about leaving the majority of her personal equipment behind with only a locked door keeping them safe from the outside world, but if all went well, she’d be back soon enough to pack everything up and leave Phoenix behind. 

( _“What’s the rent like up there?” Rey asked late one night, having caught Finn online. There was just something about him that tore her open until all of her insides spilled forth. He was easy to talk to, trustworthy._

_Finn arched an eyebrow. “Planning to move up here?”_

_Rey nodded, clearing her throat awkwardly. “I figured it would be easiest, for all of us.”_

_Finn’s amusement softened into concern. “Rey, if you...if you want to stay in Phoenix, you can. We’ll only need to be together when we tour and when we’re in the studio.”_

_“I want to,” Rey said firmly. “I’ve never stayed in one place for too long. I switched foster families more times than I can remember. After being adopted, my father flipped houses to supplement our savings, and by the time I was 16 I knew we were moving from Westminster to Massachusetts. Now I’m in Arizona. Mum calls it low-key wanderlust.”_

_Finn chuckled good-naturedly at the end of Rey’s tirade, shaking his head. “Kennewick isn’t anything special,” he hummed. “We’re still a semi-arid climate, so it might be a handful of degrees cooler than Phoenix.”_

_Rey squawked indignantly. “It was freezing when I was up there, the entire week!”_

_Finn shrugged, lips curled in a smirk. “Poor, unfortunate soul.”_ )

It was just for a month. A month of making kick ass music together, then Rey could hopefully come back and never be separated from her guitars ever again. You can do this, she told herself as she stood in the doorway to her apartment. _Just lock the damn door already._

Of course, saying goodbye to anything was never easy. Rey had to close her eyes as she turned around, keeping the image of her purple starburst and black guitars in mind as she locked her front door. 

_Good girl, now you just have to pick up your bags and start moving towards the airport… There you go._

If this was what mothers went through when they had children, well, Rey never wanted to have a child if this was how separation anxiety tore her apart over a couple of instruments. But they weren’t just a couple of instruments to her, they’d been her career the entire time she’d been working with her YouTube channel. 

Fuck, this was not going to be easy. Rey took a deep breath, hands clenched into fists, and let herself back into her apartment to check that any and all points of access were impenetrable in her absence. Windows? Locked. Guitar cases? Locked. Closet door? Deadbolted. Bedroom? Deadbolt and locked. Front door? Locked and enforced by a keypad. 

You got this, Rey promised herself as she checked for the third time that her keypad worked and the door was not going to move anytime soon. It’s only a month… 

It was hard to fight the urge to go back and check again again again, but Rey held herself in check. Can’t leave the cabbie sitting there, she reasoned. Can’t leave your bags behind. Can’t miss your flight. _Flight now boarding—_

 **Nephele Erso:** _You should be on your flight right now, just wanted to send you some encouragement and cheer on your way! I am so proud of you, and I just wanted you to know that I love you. Your father sends his love also, and Jynnie has asked you to promise her tickets to every show your band does. We’ll be behind you every step of the way!_

What did Rey do to deserve such a wonderful and loving family? Reclined in her seat, she kept her phone in her hands and reread the text several times to keep her fluttering heart calm in her chest. This was it. No going back now.

*        *        *

Kylo’s apartment was familiar as the door closed behind Rey, though he’d done some rearranging in the couple of weeks since her last visit there. She knew where to hang her hoodie on the hooks by the door, and what closet to use to store her bags in for the duration of her stay. 

“I shifted things around a bit, hope it’ll be more comfortable for you to use,” he told her, unbothered by her familiarity. 

“It looks great, thank you.” Be a gracious guest her parents had taught her. She was to be here for a month so they could work out Knights of Ren’s new album, and the last thing she wanted was to make herself a thorn in his side the entire time. 

“Do you need anything before we head up to the studio?” Kylo ran a hand over his face, throwing one last look at his apartment in thought. Since Rey had last seen him, he’d let his facial hair grow out and was working on a goatee. It was a good look for him, another facet to an amazingly multidimensional man that had a way with music Rey was envious of. 

“Could we stop somewhere and get something to eat on the way?” Rey asked sheepishly.

Kylo swore, “Fuck, I knew there was something I’d forgotten.” He meandered into the kitchen to grab something out of the freezer, and realization dawned upon Rey when she looked to the new addition of the fifty gallon fish tank nestled on the far wall. Inside was a large blue cichlid, about the size of Rey’s hand. 

“When did you get it?” 

“Like four days ago from my mother. Apparently she thought I needed something to do outside of music. Brightens things up a bit,” he muttered, tossing in a cube of bloodworms. The cichlid swallowed it whole, then seemed to stay in place and stare up at Kylo as if asking for more. “I told her she could only do it if she promised to check on her while I’m out on tour. Obviously that’s not happening.” Kylo made a face as he threw the fish food back in the freezer, exhaling a long breath. 

Right. “Oh, she works in D.C. I’d almost forgotten.” Kylo didn’t like to talk about his mother much, their relationship was awkward at best. A little forced, a lot estranged. Rey had watched the news enough to know the liberal Senator Leia Organa-Solo never rested when there was over three hundred million people looking to you to do your job. 

( _“My mother and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things,” was published on metal news website BLABBERMOUTH following an interview with Knights of Ren. The aim was to get to know the band members themselves outside of the music. It had been hard to get Kylo to open up, but when they’d started prying about the one thing he never wanted to discuss, he threw them a bone to get them off his back._

 _“She’s always working in the Senate, writing the same bills over and over again until they’re passed. She’s very liberal, politically, but in her personal life she’s got quite a few conservative beliefs. I think if I hadn’t become the person that I am, she wouldn’t have had the opportunity to open her mind before her mouth.”_ )

“All set?” Kylo asked, checking his phone. Rey nodded, zipping her hoodie back up. She felt silly to have taken it off only to put it back on again, but her bandmate (holy hell, Rey was officially the new frontwoman of Knights of Ren!) gave no indication that he noticed. “Any requests for food?” 

Rey shrugged. They were on a time limit to get to the studio, so anything fast was fine by her. They ended up stopping at a Burger King on the way, filling up on greasy burgers and french fries. Kylo was kind enough to grab a few extra burgers for his bandmates, sans Hux because he was pescatarian and trying to work his way toward vegan. “ _Trying_ ,” Kylo had reiterated sotto voce. 

Once at the studio, they all ate, including Hux who had the foresight to bring his own food with him. Phasma joined them within an hour, and with her was a studio executive, a lawyer, and a mountain of legal paperwork. Rey’s legality was pretty on point, but the lawyer was more than happy to explain anything she was uncertain of. The whole contract was pretty straightforward, and all Rey had to do was sign it to make it official. 

If Rey hadn’t known that the band was more than eager to spend the next month putting an album together with her, she would have thought the studio was rushing them to put something together as soon as possible. Despite Pava’s new band—

(“...You mean to tell me that Jessika Pava left this band to take the torch from _Talon Lethan of The Empire_?” Rey had nearly shrieked when she found out, her breath coming short and shallow. How could she compare to that?) 

—wanting to announce both events concurrently, the Label had decided they wanted to take full advantage of the opportunity presented to them. Jessika’s new place in The Empire meant all eyes would be on them, and they hoped to keep them right there, hook, line, and sink. 

The studio executive was a dark-skinned woman with a small, upturned nose and a strong Cupid’s bow. “Korr Sella,” she introduced herself, and her grip was strong and firm as she shook Rey’s hand. Rey only hoped hers was, too. This woman’s name was not unfamiliar to her in the least.

“I presume you’ll be producing our next album?” Rey asked, a tongue swiping across a damp bottom lip with nerves. She hoped her voice didn’t betray the awe filling her. Be cool, Rey, be cool. 

Korr’s mouth quirked upward in a smirk. “Absolutely. Kylo Ren himself contacted me, I hope that won’t be an issue at all?” 

Rey shook her head vehemently. Korr Sella was a very prolific producer in the industry, and she had credits from several bands under her belt—The Empire among them. Korr’s abilities as a producer came from the fact that she wasn’t a musician, but rather a scholar in the art of sound. Her ability to listen to music was less emotive, more critical, and it was this ability that made damn near everything she’d ever produced to be wildly successful. 

“I would be honored to work with you,” Rey told Korr, her face flushed. 

Korr’s smirk softened into a smile. “I, as well. I’ve watched some of your YouTube videos, and I must say that you demonstrate a wide array of skills. I hope to make use of them.” 

Behind them Phasma clapped her hands together, drawing the attention to her towering figure in the back. It was automatic, like she were a beacon of light and all of them feeble moths helpless to resist. “While we have Korrie here, why don’t we get down to it and show her the three songs you made the last time Rey was up here?” she requested. 

Korr’s face lit up with excitement, and it was then that Rey knew making this album was going to be one hell of an awesome experience. 

Hux rolled over to the sound system, queued the songs in question, and it took a few moments for everyone to situate themselves comfortably before they played them all. Rey was barely two hours off her flight and while she hadn’t anticipated getting to work so soon, it was a relief to be able to dive right into the music. Her work on her channel had slowed down considerably, and her small backstock of pre-made videos was dwindling to nothing. 

They’d have to talk about her channel eventually, but first Rey was eager to hear Korr’s thoughts.

The first song they played was the song they’d written the music for, then sent to Rey to write the lyrics and vocal part to test her composition. The second song song was not as extreme as some of their scream-heavy works in the past, an emphasis on the strength of Rey’s voice and still maintaining some of the signature complex riff work Kylo and Finn were well known for. 

After the third song, Korr couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “I can feel the style you now have with Rey. I can also sense a theme. Question is, do you want to go with it for the whole album? It’s a bit late now to really get into this discussion, but we’ll just start for some food for thought. I’d love to sit down with you all soon and really get into this, but we’ll save that for, say, Thursday? That gives you over a day to think about what I asked.” 

Phasma interjected, “If you guys are giving yourselves a month to do this, the faster you can come up with a concept, the faster we can start getting the ball rolling. The Empire’s manager is getting pushy about dropping the announcement, but luckily nobody’s a bigger bitch than I am.” 

Finn covered his mouth, though what he said didn’t go unheard. “Have you met Poe’s cat?” Poe elbowed him in the side with a scoff, much to Phasma’s amusement. 

“Thursday then?” Kylo sought to confirm with everyone in the room. A round of assents echoed, and then one by one, Korr Sella shook hands with the Knights of Ren. 

“Excellent.” Korr shook Rey’s hand with a bit more enthusiasm this time, a glint in her eyes that mirrored Rey’s mounting eagerness. “Welcome to the Knights of Ren, Rey. I am thrilled to see what we can put together for this new album.” 

After her departure with Phasma, Rey plopped down into the nearest seat. Holy shit. This was real. Knights of Ren, Jessika’s departure, them _choosing_ her as their new vocalist—all of it. (Still, Rey was not above pinching herself just to be sure.) 

Finn looked to her knowingly. “Just now setting in?” he asked, patting her on the shoulder. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Rey breathed. 

Poe chuckled, clasping her free shoulder as a gesture meant to ground her. “You’ll do just fine, kid. I believe in you.”

*        *        *

Two days later, after extensive back and forth conversation via Phasma via email, Knights of Ren and The Empire respectfully agree to make Jessika’s departure public and official. In the two months since she’d told them of her decision to leave, they’ve had no contact with her whatsoever. There had been times Finn would sit with his phone in hand, their text threads open. He read through as many of their previous chats as he could, and often caught himself thumbing along the screen to tap out _How are you doing_? But every time Poe walked by him, every time he saw Kylo or Hux or even so much as thought of Rey, he’d delete it and close the thread. 

It was okay to be nostalgic, but Finn had to let Pava go. It was her choice, and though it hurt that after all they’d done together she hadn’t said a word to them, nothing could be changed. All of them hurt from the callousness of her actions, they smarted from the sting of her abruptness, and it had felt like betrayal. It had brought the four of them closer together, and had even beckoned forth Rey’s youthful exuberance into their circle. Every time Finn thought back to Pava, let himself entertain notions of keeping contact with her, he thought about how Pava had gone behind their backs and couldn’t bring himself to make her same mistakes.

The day they sat with Phasma in her office when the news became official, Finn reread some of his texts with Pava one last time—remembering the fondness, the familiarity and locking it away in a compartment separate from the pain of her departure. Then, when Phasma confirmed that the announcement was on both the front page of The Empire’s website and their own, Finn deleted the entire thread. 

_To All Fans and Supporters of Knights of Ren,_

_We regret to have to inform you all of the departure of the band’s vocalist, Jessika Pava, however all parties involved agree it is simply time for Jessika to move along in her career. We wish her the best in her journey as a musician and congratulate her for being able to move forward as the new vocalist of The Empire, a band we have all respected and been inspired by. The Knights of Ren have decided to embrace this change and continue forward, welcoming the immensely talented REY to join us on our journey to keep making pure fucking metal. The Knights of Ren ask for our amazing fans’ continued support for us all and Jessika Pava as we continue on our now divergent paths._

_Thank You,  
Signed: Finn Boyega, Poe Dameron, Brendol Hux, Rey Erso, and Kylo Ren. _

While their announcement was formal and almost stilted in language, The Empire’s announcement was written by Talon herself. Rey wondered if, contextually, the truth of Jessika’s abrupt departure would shine through, but Kylo assured her that he didn’t give a single fuck. Let them find out that Jessika kept quiet and took off with barely a second’s notice. 

_StormTroopers,_

_After thirteen years of spearheading The Empire to heights never before thought possible, I have decided that it is time for me to pass the torch along to someone else. As you may be aware, last March there were serious complications that resulted in several shows being canceled. It pains me to admit these complications are on-going and require medical intervention, thus putting my time with The Empire at an end. Saying goodbye is never easy, but since this was a long time coming, we were well-prepared and I was able to personally choose who I believed to be the best option to pass the torch to: Jessika Pava, formerly of Knights of Ren. I have no doubts in Jessika’s ability to keep The Empire going forward and taking everyone to places that I myself would never be capable of. Please receive her kindly._

_Talon Lethan_

After the news was out and several outlets were reporting on it, Rey broached the subject of her YouTube channel. “Knights of Ren is going to be my number one priority, of course. It just...seems weird to be doing covers of songs when I’m here with you know. I’d like to say a proper goodbye,” she explained.

Nobody seemed to have an issue with her request, they seemed to agree rather. It was Kylo who suggested that she drop a few Phasma-approved bits of information about the album they’d be working on. Phasma didn’t have much in the way of restrictions considering there wasn’t much they had on hand to begin with, so with a little bit of help, Rey was able to work with the studio cameras to set up for a video. 

“Hello everyone!” Rey gave her signature smile and wave introduction, though this one was drastically different because she was in the studio with her bandmates at her side in the frame. “Today’s video isn’t going to be what you’d hoped for, but it can’t be put off for any longer. 

“At my sides you might see some familiar faces, but if you don’t recognize them then allow me to introduce them. Here is Hux, Poe, Finn, and Kylo Ren.” Each one waved at the camera following their name. “Together the five of us are Knights of Ren. In case you live under a rock and missed the news, Jessika Pava has stepped up to take Talon Lethan’s place at the front of The Empire. It is an absolute honor to have been given the opportunity to work beside the brilliant minds of these musicians, to work with them. 

“The main point of this video is to address the elephant in the room. Knights of Ren will be my priority in life, and while I have met many amazing people through the music community of YouTube and learned so much as a vocalist and well-rounded musician, it’s time to close this chapter of my life so that I may start a new one. Thank you all so, so much for your unending support. I can’t thank you enough for everything. It means so much to me. The channel, the videos—they’ll all be left up. However, I will be removing all of my audio covers from sites like iTunes so they can no longer be purchased. It just—it feels weird, I hope you all understand.” 

Rey cleared her throat, shifting in front of the camera. Poe jumped in before she could continue, “In case you were wondering, yes, we are filming in the Knights of Ren studio currently. We are about to begin working on a new album—”

“What do you mean _begin_?” Hux cut in, throwing him a look over Rey’s shoulder. Rey tried to hide a smile behind her hands, but couldn’t help her small bout of laughter at their antics.

Poe rolled his eyes. “Okay, so we’ve been in the studio working on...stuff.” 

Kylo shifted, bringing the attention to himself. Eh, why the hell not? “We can’t give out too much information, just that what we’ve got now is looking fucking wicked. Rey is one hell of a vocalist, and you’ve all had the opportunity to watch her as she grew into the force she is now. Please keep supporting her, and us, as the Knights of Ren.” 

Rey and Finn nodded their assent as Kylo spoke, Rey brushing her dark hair back from her face. “That sounds about right,” Finn said. 

Rey picked back up, the words flowing forth automatically. “Kylo pretty much said all that we can say right now. There’s still so much that needs to be done, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. Thank you, every single one of you. Every view, every like, every subscription has meant so much to me over the years. I’d never be where I am now without you all.” 

“Truth,” Finn said. “I probably wouldn’t have found you on YouTube if your videos weren’t so popular.” 

Rey laughed again. “See? I owe that to all of you. I hope you’ll continue to support me as a member of Knights of Ren. Please look forward to future news by visiting our website, or Facebook and Twitter.” Rey blew a kiss to the camera. “This isn’t goodbye, this is see you on the other side. Peace!” 

After they all took a moment to wave, Rey got up and stopped the recording. She’d edit it on her laptop and try to have it up before the end of the night. “Thanks guys,” she beamed. 

“Let us know when you get that uploaded, I’ll edit the news post and share it on our social networks so people see it,” Kylo offered. 

When Rey turned to thank him, her voice caught like a frog in her throat. The moment couldn’t have lasted more than a split second, but all she saw was the way an overhead recessed light fell along the convex and concaves of his face. A shadow fell over his dark gaze, and for a moment her breath disappeared from her lungs as his tongue swept between his thick lips. 

Rey cleared her throat, taking a deep and slow breath to steady herself. That was totally the anxiety. Right? Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written in twenty-four hours, so if there are any glaring errors, please let me know! I've been adjusting to a new shift at my place of employment and it seems like the only time I have to write is on my days off. Since these days are Tuesdays and Wednesdays for the foreseeable future, I will be trying my best to try to adhere to a schedule. No promises though, hope y'all understand. :)
> 
> Surprisingly, veganism is quite popular in the metal scene. I tried to convey this through Hux, but since I've also written him as a terribly self-indulgent character (a trait I myself have in spades), I would think the process of going vegan would be quite challenging for him just as I know it would be (read: is) for me. I hope no one misunderstood that as a shot at vegans. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, we start getting into the crux of things soon. Thank you all for coming this far with me. I hold every hit, kudos, comment, and bookmark dear to me. ♥
> 
> P.S. I have a [tumblr!](http://burntseas.tumblr.com/) Come holla at me, I love to blab.  
> P.S. Part 2: I'm pretty sure there's at least three Disney references in this chapter and I'm not sure why? I guess I'm just kewl like that. *moonwalks into the sunset*


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is an emotional mess for our favorite characters and is on the sad side, with a very brief discussion of suicidal ideation in the event anyone may be triggered.

  
_“Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.”_ \- Maya Angelou

As expected, the news of Jessika’s departure and Rey’s ascension generated buzz in every news outlet they’d ever heard of. Rey’s views and subscriber count went through the roof, and album sales for Knights of Ren kept going higher and higher. Unfortunately, Rey was given ample opportunity to learn how much of a true masochist she was. As a YouTuber, she fed on any and all feedback, but this? This was just too much.

Change was never an easy thing, Rey knew that, but it wasn’t always bad. She’d been in and out, all around the block to know that there was both the good and the bad that accompanied it each time. Some people, it seemed, just couldn’t accept change at all—and the vehemence of the responses to both Jessika _and_ Rey was not something for which she’d adequately prepared herself.

 _Jessika Pava is good, but she’s not good enough to run with The Empire. Sorry not sorry, Talon. You just threw your band in the dumps_ , read one particularly brutal comment that had Rey’s blood boiling in her veins. As both a longtime fan of Knights of Ren and The Empire each, it hurt to see such amazing musicians slandered in such a way.

_They replaced Jessika Pava w REY of all people??? What does she even kno about writing music when she just copies other musicians??? What the fuck were KOR thinking when they chose a girl ten years younger than them to be there new vocalist is what I wanna kno_

A noise sounded behind Rey, startling her. She nearly jumped out of her skin as she whirled around, the shadow shrouded figure of Kylo Ren making himself known. “Sorry,” he apologized, rubbing the bend of his knee where he’d stumbled into the corner of a coffee table. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to see why you were still up.” 

“Oh.” Rey cleared her throat, fingers nervously twirling at the baby hairs on the back of her neck. A quick glance at the clock above the glowing fish tank revealed it to be almost one in the morning, and the band was supposed to meet up in the studio at 8am. “I just, um—just doing some reading.” 

Kylo arched an eyebrow, his dark gaze knowing. “Things are probably very intense right now all around,” he murmured, voice coarse with fading sleep. “I avoid reading anything. Phasma does a good job of getting us the highlights anyway. Comment sections on articles can be downright terrifying, they tend to be filled with halfwits who think they know the music better than the musicians themselves. They’re not in the studio with us, listening to what we’ve put together so far. They’ll change their tunes real quick when they do hear it, I promise. Happens all the time.” He shrugged as he sat in the chair across from her. 

Well, he wasn’t wrong, Rey supposed with an incline of her head. “Sorry, I just—” she made a noise of frustration in the back of her throat. Kylo’s presence had a way of making her feel smaller than what she truly was, long and thick limbs folding with practiced ease. He was sloe-eyed and face swollen with sleep, dark hair in a voluminous mess around his head. Usually he pulled his hair back at bedtime, or braided it, but tonight marked the first occasion that Rey had ever seen him laid so bare before her. 

He was… _fuck_. Rey struggled to swallow past the ball of rife emotion in her throat as she came to terms with the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach meant. She tightened her fingers around the blanket at her side, teeth digging into her lip as she forced that emotion into a little box inside of her mind and locked it tight. Now was not the time.

“Don’t apologize,” Kylo waved her off. “I get it: feedback was instrumental to your YouTube success. However, you’re with us now, and the only people that need concern themselves with how we choose to make our music is all of us in Knights of Ren, Phasma, and Korr Sella.” 

Rey shut her laptop and leaned back into the softness of the plush cushions of the couch. It was definitely better than her bed back home. Memories of her parents, Galen and Nephele, and her older sister Jyn and her modelling career came to the forefront of her mind. “Sometimes people just need to talk shit,” Galen had said, and as Rey tested the words on her own tongue, everything seemed to fall into place. _This world can be such an awful place that no one knows how to take a good thing for what it is._

“Unfortunate, but true,” Kylo agreed, turning towards the bathroom. “You going to be able to get some sleep tonight?”

Rey smiled up at him, feeling ten times smaller than she usually did in his too big presence. “I will now, thank you.” As he traipsed off, Rey pulled out her phone and was sure to send her father a text message to thank him for always having the foresight to share his infinite wisdom. He touted it all the time in her youth, but it was only now as an adult that she had begun to see the practicality of it all. 

The couch was far too welcoming as Rey sunk into it, pulling a blanket up to her chin. She was comfortable, she was warm, and more than that right now, she was needed. Part of something bigger than her, something that wouldn’t work the way it needed to without her. But, most importantly, she was loved and adored. Had been for years following physical and mental starvation. “Jesus Christ,” she swore under her breath as a torrent of emotions welled up inside of her, this time it would not be shoved into a box.

_Don’t cry, don’t cry don’t—fuck._

Sniffling as she wiped the first tear away on the back of her hand, Rey reached for her notebook she kept by her side every single night. Might as well do something with all of these emotions if they weren’t going to let her be.

*        *        *

“Wait a minute—” Finn held up a hand and gave Rey a wry look. “You had _how_ many shots of espresso put in that drink?”

The weight of several gazes fell upon her, and Rey ducked away from them by burying her face in her drink. It tasted strongly of coffee with a hint of sugar and milk, though the bitterness prevailed. “Three,” she mumbled, letting a small sip sit on her tongue before she swallowed it. It would be best to savor the drink while because she had no intentions of drinking it all in one go. She just needed a bit of help throughout the day to keep herself awake. Coffee was wonderful like that.

Hux arched an eyebrow, but seemed to bite back a few choice words. The band’s drummer on the other hand, had no such qualms. “Death by heart attack? I just need to know so I can be prepared,” he said, voice teasing and light. 

“Sorry,” Rey said, utterly unrepentant as she removed her hoodie and hung it up by the others. “I was struck by inspiration last night and I couldn’t let it go. My body has regrets, but I don’t.”

Poe’s face was crestfallen, though a twinkle of mirth remained in his dark eyes. He rubbed his closed fists together, imitating a defibrillator, and asked, “So no heart attacks then?” 

 

Turning around to return the witticism, Rey’s response came after a second of hesitation after her gaze rested upon Kylo Ren tuning the strings of his guitar. His form was huddled into the computer chair, the muscles of his shoulders bunched tight as his dark hair hid his face from view. It was the image of frustration, and Rey had just enough mind to register that Hux had informed her Kylo was upset because a string on his guitar had broken—one of eight on his Ibanez Iron Label, ouch. _Normally he’d be fine but I think something’s eating at him. Stay on your toes._

Though she was far from a ballerina, Rey could say with absolute certainty that she would excel at that particular instruction. Sometimes people just needed to have their moment to themselves, even if it was spent isolated by a wall of ire. Rey bit the inside of her cheek at the errant thought she should have gotten Kylo a coffee, or at the very least one of the muffins he so enjoyed from the band’s favorite cafe up the street. She was barely cognizant enough to trace past footsteps, splitting from the band with a muttered, “I need some fuckin’ coffee,” under her breath.

Or was that too obvious? _Fuck_.

“Okayyy,” Rey drew out the last syllable, shaking the errant thought from mind. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Korrie’s gonna be in at noon,” Poe spoke up. “She wants us to show her the three songs we’ve already gotten. The goal is to have them record-ready by the end of the day. In the meantime, I don’t suppose anyone else wants to join me in torturing myself with The Empire’s album teasers?”

Rey laughed as she sat down next to him and said, “You never have to ask us to torture you, or offer to pay, we’ll do it and we’ll do it for free.” 

Poe snorted. “No love lost between us at all, huh?” 

“None at all,” Hux jested, sitting on Poe’s other side. Finn chose to stand behind the drummer, looking over his shoulder at the images brought up on the iPad. 

The promotional pictures were, true to the way The Empire had built themselves up over fifteen years, were as gritty and grotesque as they’d ever been. There were various poses spread across the handful of teasers, each member spread apart to give them their own space for recognition—but it was Jessika Pava herself that stood front and center in all of them. Not seeing Talon Lethan felt like glimpsing into an alternate reality, Jessika’s pallor complexion all wrong without the strong, thick black tribal ink Talon was well known for.

At the same time, this was a version of Jessika none of them had ever seen before. This was Jessika Pava, frontwoman of The Empire—they had only ever known Jess of Knights of Ren. This person, with artfully grunge clothes, eccentric make-up, and the blue of her extensions a shock of color in the otherwise desolate-looking landscape.

“I like the armband,” Rey uttered, unable to bear the weight of the pregnant silence between them anymore. The armband in question was high on Jessika’s arms, a black background with the white six-spoked logo of The Empire cementing this strange reality into place. 

_Rise of the Old Masters_ , the album was to be called. It was very...The Empire. 

“According to BLABBERMOUTH, the album was half-written before Talon learned it would be best for her to attend to her medical needs. It also goes on to mention that while Talon has accepted that performing may no longer be something she can do, she does not intend to step completely outside of the music industry. She’s credited as one of two producers of the album,” Poe said, voice droning as he read through the text of the webpage. They were able to see two more images of the band before Poe stopped on a thirty second teaser clip of the album. 

Upon noticing Poe’s hesitation, Hux strained to say, “Just play it. It won’t kill us.” 

If Finn’s expression could say anything, it would be _That doesn’t mean it won’t hurt._

Before Rey could say anything else, Poe tapped on the video and after a few seconds of agonized loading, it began to play. It was muted guitar riffs over a faded background image of the band together, dry ice billowing around like storm clouds. The teaser continued that way until the last handful of seconds, when the riffs cut out and Pava’s unmistakeable roar of “WE WILL RISE!” finished it off.

The teaser, as suggested by the name, did exactly as it was meant to do: the fan in Rey vibrated intensely with a yearning for more, thirst unslaked by a few meager drops. The musician that had become Pava’s replacement, on the other hand, turned green with envy. Could she successfully stand in the same place as this immensely talented woman before her and succeed? 

A throat cleared itself, and it was magnetic the way everyone’s gaze fell to Kylo’s face. His expression was a twisted mixture of some sort of agony, some breed of rage, and a concentrated effort to relax himself. Rey had to bit her lower lip and turn away to swallow the endeared laugh that bubbled in her chest. That would be very inappropriate. 

Kylo said, “You know the rule, we don’t listen to other bands’ music when we’re in the studio. We want to write and record music with a clear, focused mind.”

The four of them nodded fervently. It had been a rule they’d agreed upon, to prevent any unintentional sampling of the music of others. It was rampant in the mainstream music industry, but it was too akin to plagiarism and soured their palates.

Poe was quick to apologize, shutting off his iPad. He was the first person up and in the studio, stretching his limbs to prepare for a long day behind the drumset. Hux and Finn followed the cue to ready themselves, leaving Rey to sit quietly by herself and start her vocal warm-ups. Out of the corner of her eyes, Rey watched Kylo use a microfiber cloth to dust off his guitar, the sleek black design making it far too noticeable. One thing she learned quickly about him was how obsessively meticulous he was about taking care of his guitar. Rey couldn’t blame him, and the thought of all the dust covering her guitars at home was enough to make her wince and stumble in the middle of a trill. 

Kylo arched an eyebrow at her, mirth glinting in his dark eyes. There was the faintest hint of a curl at the corner of his mouth, as though he was suppressing that too. Rey felt her face go hot with embarrassment, and quietly thanked whatever deity handed the gift of makeup down to humans because this going red in the cheeks thing was going to get real old real fucking fast.

Rey entered the studio after finishing her warm-ups, joining the others as they made sure their equipment was well-cared for and ready to handle the brunt of the day. They’d throw around a few ideas until Korr Sella arrived, and by the end of the day, they’d have three songs one hundred percent ready for an album. It was going to be, by far, the easiest day of recording; then it would be time to get really fucking metal.

Rey cracked her knuckles and her neck, stretching her muscles as she tested a couple of clean notes followed by uncleans. _Hell yeah, let’s fucking do this._

*        *        *

The mirror was fogged over as Rey stepped out of the shower, her body wrapped tight in a white towel that almost swallowed her whole. She wiped it clean with the back of her hand, managing a smile at her reflection. Not all of her make-up had come off for the day, eyeliner and mascara smudged around her eyes. It was raw, something innately her, and she appreciated that in the moments when she could think back on the Unfortunate Years and tell herself _You did it, you’re Somebody and you’re Loved._

Rey dried herself off, slipping into a loose t-shirt and plaid pyjama pants. There was a tickle in the back of her throat she’d been fighting with and the shower loosened up some of what gunk was there, but not all of it. She would have to go full routine tonight to make sure her voice recovered and she was ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.

As soon as she stepped outside of the bathroom she found Kylo sitting in his chair with two steaming cups on the coffee table. He looked up at her, and for a moment seemed to almost… _fumble_ , before he pushed at the cup on the right. “Throat coat tea,” he said. He focused on the floor. “Pava swears by it, and I have a whole drawer full of stuff for when she’d crash here...back in the day, I guess.” 

Rey made a sound in the back of her throat, meant to be a small hum but instead turned into a hack. “Throat coat is very good,” she said as she accepted it, reclining on the couch she’d come to think as hers. “I’ll probably get a good menthol session in with my steam inhaler before I’m ready for bed.” 

Above the rim of her teacup, Rey watched Kylo’s face contort into a vast array of expressions. He wanted to say something, that much was obvious, but instead fought with himself. Rey thought to prompt him, but decided to enjoy the warm tea as it soothed her well-used throat. 

Finally, after a minute or two, he spoke up, “Actually, if...if you don’t mind, I was hoping to get your help with something.” 

Rey arched an eyebrow, hands running through her damp hair as she fought what she knew to be a stupid fucking blush on her face. Did she really need to shower and take off all of her make-up? _If you don’t want to have a breakout, then yes._

“Um, sure,” Rey agreed. 

Kylo nodded. “Okay,” he said, and then reiterated much more softly, “ _Okay_.” Encouraging himself. He hesitated to get up and meander to his room, his posture tense and gait all sorts of wrong. Rey tried not to frown. He came back, this time quicker as if willing time to move faster. In his hands he maintained a tight purchase on a generic composition notebook, the papers crinkled and well-used. An musician’s songbook if Rey had never seen one before. 

“I’ve been working on— _something_ for awhile now. I think it’s finished, but something feels wrong. I need a fresh pair of eyes.” Kylo held the notebook close to his chest, and for a moment Rey fancied it for the piece of him that it was. Her heart palpitated wildly that he would deign to share this with her, _friendship is fucking magic_ a mantra in mind.

Rey accepted the proffered notebook with gentle reverence, opening it to where he’d indicated with his thumb. Thankfully Kylo’s penmanship was legible, even if it was a mess of stick-like lettering. Each letter came together to make a word, each word a line, and each line wove into the next to form a thought that slowly took shape as she read further and further down the page. Interspersed in the white margins were notes about riffs, and Rey cracked a smile at the _slap bass—go hard or go home_ scrawled between each section. 

Kylo’s word choice was vastly different from what Rey would have selected, but he was articulate in a way she often didn’t consider. Rey’s lyrics approached a flowery, metaphorical line but Kylo’s was about halfway between that and uncreatively blunt, a clear preference for conciseness. The song told a tale of an arduous, pervasive grief and the struggles of the faults in one’s self. It didn’t take Rey long to understand what the song was about, and why Kylo’s entire demeanor seemed off that day. 

It was an open secret in the industry, and one you didn’t talk about without severe repercussions. Some liked to think themselves smart and would often try indirect tactics to pry at Kylo, at his mother, but they had the same stone cold glare to be able to stop all queries. 

Realizing she’d been quiet too long, Rey cleared her throat and managed to say, “This is tragically beautiful. If you don’t mind me asking, why—”

Kylo interrupted her, as if he’d been expecting her reaction. “I’ve been...working on this for a long time. It never seemed right to finish it until now. I’m ready to talk about it, but on my terms.” 

The explanation had a smile twisting at Rey’s lips. “Music is perfect for that, isn’t it?” 

Kylo nodded, swallowing a ball of emotion in his throat. Rey swore there was a sheen in his eyes, but he blinked it away. “I just—I need her to know I didn’t mean to do it.” 

Brows furrowed, Rey chanced the thought on her mind, “Do what?” 

“I went to therapy for years after it happened, Rey. I can’t absolve myself of this guilt if she still thinks I killed him. I never meant to kill him. I wanted to kill _myself_.” 

Bereft were Rey’s lungs at those words, her chest aching with the struggle to contain the overwhelming empathy spreading through her like an anguish-shaped spear to her chest. This pain was hot and sticky and oozing, like how she imagined the festering wound inside of him was. Her eyes misty, she blinked them away and batted away the errant _how could any mother resent their own flesh and blood for anything_?

(Who the hell was she kidding? Rey was seven years old when she was adopted. No telling what her flesh and blood thought about her to put her through those Unfortunate Years.)

“Kylo…” Rey bit her lip, unsure what she could say. This moment, she could say with absolute certainty, pushed something into a part of her she knew was dangerous and could lead to regrets, but she let it lead her to her feet. To stand before him. Rey just wanted to ease his howling demons, if for just a moment.

 _Trading nurture for censure; reprobate matriarchy_ , Kylo had written with his own words. His emotions.

“To kill someone is to kill a part of yourself that makes you human; in your place stands a mirror of who you used to be, a shell that hides the creature you’ve become: a murderer. But murderers don’t feel guilt, Kylo. They don’t regret. They don’t hurt. They don’t seek absolution. You want to stand here and tell me that you think you’re a killer, a murderer?” Rey inhaled sharply, praying to every deity above and beyond that she wasn’t crossing a line he could never forgive her for. “The fact you even considered writing this song proves otherwise. I believe the world greatly wrong you—it stole something from you, you didn’t take it from yourself. Tell me, Kylo, if you had the choice to choose what happened, would you have chosen that path?” 

Kylo’s mouth twisted into a wry assortment of emotions, his face red with emotion as he considered her words. “No,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t have chose that at all. If I had known what could happen, I wouldn’t have chosen to imbibe until I got alcohol poisoning. I wouldn’t have chosen to drink at all. Then he’d—he’d still be _here_.

“Who would have thought it? Han Solo, biggest fan of Knights of Ren who gets front row tickets to all of our shows. He’d do that, too. He was rough around the edges, eccentric in all the ways you’d hope a movie star of his caliber could be, but he was always my support system.” 

As Kylo spoke, he’d pause every so often and swallow or lick his lips. It was the little things like that which betrayed the truth of his thoughts to her, of how he’d never quite talked about this before except maybe to the therapist he mentioned. It was so, so good that he could share this with Rey, not just because it was her, but because he could talk about it at all. 

“He used to tell me that...that she was just as wild as he was back in the day, but she went through is born-again Christian thing. He said if they hadn’t already been married at that point, she probably would have left him because it was a ‘sinful’ life. She loosened up after I was born I guess, but she was never quite the same woman he fell in love with, but he loved who she’d become just as much.

“They fought all the time. I remember seeing bulletins flashing with news of Han Solo’s impending divorce much like you see Kanye West and Kim Kardashian’s today. When I started getting into music, she was never quiet about her disapproval. Never quite called rock and roll the music of the Devil, but she may have for all the times she called it noise. 

“She might resent me for...what happened, but I know she listens to every song Knights of Ren releases. It’s what he would do.” 

His tirade lit Rey’s face with a soft glow, a fondness blooming in her chest that escaped in the way her hand trailed down the heavily inked skin his arm. Her fingertips pressed against his wrist before it occurred to her that she was crossing that line again, so she jerked her hand back and tried to cover it up by tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. 

“Good,” she said, her mouth dry. She stuffed her insufferable emotions inside a box, coaxing them into silence with the belief that she could screw everything up if she made one more wrong step. “We’re going to make this fucking song, alright? I know talking about this shit doesn’t magically fix things.” Rey found her brazen courage again, poking Kylo square in the chest where her eyes landed. “So we’re gonna give it our all, and it’s going to be the best song on the album.” 

There was a certain lilt to the twist of Kylo’s mouth, one Rey couldn’t quite put into words. “One request,” he started. “I don’t want it to be the main single or anything. I just need it to be on it.” 

Rey’s eyes crinkled as she laughed. “The best songs rarely ever are singles, Kylo.” 

Again with that look again—the intense one, the one that made her whole being light up. Her cheeks were a goddamn beacon. “Yeah, I guess so,” he agreed, albeit demurely. He seated himself on the couch and patted the spot next to him. 

“Let’s make a song so good we ruin the rest of the album.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rise of the Old Masters is a reference to the season 1, episode 3 of the Star Wars animated TV show. Jessika's hair extensions are an homage to the wonderfully metal ladies of Butcher Babies, [Carla](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/88/d1/87/88d18777e157e0e2c6d6a2100ebf9349.jpg) and [Heidi](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/28/34/33/2834335ff1b0c78ee73ef45c9d397349.jpg)! Obligatory shout out to the blue-haired metal goddess, [Alissa](http://66.media.tumblr.com/b65a4954bd9677f8a007008fc5622b9e/tumblr_nqgo3lMnoM1sjq49po1_500.jpg) of course. :D
> 
> Kylo Ren's [8 string Ibanez Iron Label guitar](http://www.ibanez.com/products/eg_detail.php?year=2016&area_id=3&cat_id=1&series_id=1&data_id=346&color=CL01). Finn's is not mentioned, but his main instrument is a [B.C. Rich MK5 Warlock](http://www.bcrich.com/mk5-instruments/mk5-warlock/). I fancy he also owns one of the [Kerry King signature series](http://www.bcrich.com/kerry-king-signature-series/) guitars, I headcanon him as both a Slayer fanboy and an enthusiastic collector of atypically-shaped guitars. Kylo doesn't care, he just wants a quality guitar he can play with his big hands, haha. XD
> 
> I took a look at the stats for this fic and, as of me posting this chapter, we're at 66 kudos, 8 bookmarks, and 53 comments (half of which are mine because I like to blab hehe). This is amazing, I fucking adore all of you so much!! Thank you so much for giving your time to this fic, it means a lot and I don't think I can express how grateful I am. The plan is to update again by Wednesday so wish me luck. :D
> 
> P.S. come holla at me on [tumblr](http://burntseas.tumblr.com/), because I like to blab and occasionally post fic teasers. ♥♥♥


	7. Interlude: Redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry to everyone for making you all wait as long as you have for this update. It wasn’t my intention, but unfortunately life happened... The last few months my relationship has been quite rocky, and after serious contemplation I decided it was best to end it for my mental and physical health. During this time I just didn’t feel like writing about a couple coming together when my relationship was falling apart, y’know? 
> 
> Anywho, I’ve decided that now that I’m going to drown my sorrows in writing fic because I’ve done enough moping. Extra slowness was due to the treacherous writer’s block, which I have hopefully conquered. Updates should resume a semi-regular pace. Thank you for your patience and willingness to still give this fic a chance. ♥
> 
> Now onward to a brief little interlude from Kylo’s point of view! :)

  
_"After silence, that which comes closest to expressing the inexpressible is music."_ \- Aldous Huxley

Kylo Ren had had a bad night. Confronting issues of the past was never a pleasant thing, regardless of the multitude of therapy under his belt. It was easy to look a stranger in the face and show them the festering wound in your chest because they were paid to care about it. It didn’t mean that any of the therapists Kylo had seen over the years hadn’t helped him at all, but they hadn’t been able to bring Han Solo back to life either.

Rolling over in bed, Kylo reached for his iPhone that was rested snugly into its charging dock. The dock told him it was just shy of nine in the morning, and he had a handful of text messages from Rey and a couple of more in the group chat. Unwittingly, Kylo couldn’t stop the smile twisting at his lips as he opened his thread with Rey.

 **REY:** _hey! you were out pretty late last night in the gym, so I decided to head to the studio a bit earlier and let you have your rest. Join us whenever you’re ready and we can show them your song??_

 **REY:** _but we don’t have to show them the song just yet if you need a lil bit more time yanno... #awkwardfish_

What the hell did Kylo do to deserve such an understanding woman to replace Jessika Pava, a woman that had arguably been his closest friend ever? Pava probably would have dragged him out of his bed by the hair, more focused on the music. They’d have probably argued. Pava and Kylo, as close as they’d been, they fought like cats and dogs were wont to do. 

But Rey? She’d kept quiet the whole week following Kylo’s request to help with _his_ song, the song he’d brought some of the darkest parts of himself into light with. Not a word to the other Knights of Ren. They’d work diligently all day long with Korr Sella, lay out ideas for tracks (and on a good day start if not finish one), and then at the end of the night she’d stay up with him until they couldn’t hold their eyes open anymore tearing it apart and putting it back together again.

Working with Rey had been...phenomenal, in both the best and worst way possible. Through this song, she had seen him at his worst, had let him air out all of the agony he’d held inside of him for over seven years now. _It’s not your fault, we’re not gods and we don’t have any say in these things,_ she’d say. 

_Yeah, but if I’d never given myself alcohol poisoning over a bad Starkiller show, he’d still be right fucking here and my mother wouldn’t be passive-aggressively sending me tropical fish that I can’t take care of as a reminder of it._

Rey never fought the self-deprecating tirades he’d have in the middle of the night. Instead, she’d sit still and she would listen, absorbing every word, and then she’d channel it into the song by making the subtlest change to a riff or switching out a word in the lyrics and it was fucking amazing. If Kylo didn’t know any better, which to be frank he didn’t, he’d say there was something in Rey that resonated with his own tragedy. 

Like Rey understood because she had her own, too. 

But, if there was anything Kylo knew, it was to step back and give people time to crawl into their own. It had taken him seven years, five of which interspersed with therapy, and it was only just now that he was ready to address it in his own way. There would be no way he couldn’t talk about it, no more memos from Phasma to interviewers about what they could and could not ask. Or at least the once taboo topic of Han Solo wouldn’t be on that list anymore.

The phone vibrated in hand.

 **REY:** _yooo why am I just now learning that Finn is actually a fucking BOMB AS FUCK singer???!!! Ugh his voice is so smooth he sounds like Lajon Witherspoon. can we just make him our vocalist instead & I am a bitchin guitarist_

Her most recent text message brought forth a chuckle, his chest rumbling with the hoarseness of sleep. They’d been making an album together for over two and a half weeks now, and Rey had just noticed that Finn was vocally talented as well? There was a reason he did most of the backing vocal work during their live performances. 

**Kylo:** _I can’t believe you’re just now figuring this out, though Finn likes playing the guitar too much to be a full time vocalist. Sounds like Lajon Witherspoon though? I hadn’t thought of that. I can see why you’d think that, it’s not a bad comparison. Lajon is a bit more gravelly than Finn, I think lol_

 **REY:** _You fucking laughing at me and I’m having a crisis of identity here??????????? Finn is literally this band’s secret weapon that I didn’t know about and I’m So Upset_

 **REY:** _In all seriousness… he’s a bit raw and rough around the edges, but with practice I believe Finn can change the world._

Kylo’s brows furrowed with amusement as he texted her back as he got out of bed. _Did you just quote The Last Airbender’s opening at me?_ He showered the night previous after his stint at the gym, so all he had to do was find something to eat, get into proper attire, and then meet the band in the studio to get back to work. If Kylo introduced his song today, it would give them their eighth song for the album—counting the one they’d gotten halfway through the previous night. 

As the saying went, it was best to tear the band-aid off as possible. Why prolong the inevitable? The sooner it was done, the sooner it could be over. He puttered around the kitchen, waiting for an oatmeal cup to heat up in the microwave, and drove to the studio with one hand on the steering wheel and the other shoving a spoon in his mouth. Traffic was generous, and all too soon he was pulling his car up between Finn and Korrie’s. Hux’s truck wasn’t in its usual place, which probably meant he’d gone for a run at the cafe they loved to frequent far too much. Poe liked to joke half of the place’s income came from the band.

“Man, that’s such bullshit,” was the first thing Kylo heard when he entered the studio. Rey was always present, warming up and strumming along as if her being part of Knights of Ren was a fragile dream capable of shattering at any moment. She wasn’t alone, however, with Finn right by her side as they stood before the mic. The others must have been at the cafe.

Rey continued, “If you’re going to hold a scream for an extended period of time, use the fry technique. It uses as little breath as possible. I don’t care of hardcore scream enthusiasts don’t find it impressive, or whatever. I’m not about encouraging myself, or anyone else, to pass out on stage because I tried to scream for longer than 7 seconds. I’m all for being metal as hell, but metal responsibly.” 

Finn nodded, tongue coming out to wet his lips. His eagerness to learn was palpable even to Kylo, because this was a whole new venue the band could take and they were far too excited to explore it. Talent could only get you so far, it was the hard work put into honing that talent that made it something amazing. “Alright,” Finn said. “What’s the longest you’ve managed to comfortably scream via fry?”

Rey bit the inside of her cheek, her head tilting to the side in that adorable way that often coincided with a fuzziness in Kylo’s chest. (Goddamn it, this is not how that is supposed to work, Kylo wanted to snarl at himself.) “I don’t know. Give me a riff and I’ll give it a shot.” 

Finn reached for his guitar, sliding the strap over his shoulder, feet shoulder width apart. It was his typical stance. It was his black guitar with red designs, from the BC Rich Kerry King signature series. His hands caressed the length of the neck before sliding into place, and barely a moment later his fingers were rolling out the riff to one of their newer songs. Finn started a few measures back from Rey’s vocal part, giving her time to tune herself in and pick up where necessary. 

Rey nodded her head, stepping up to the mic as her gaze met with Kylo’s. “Time me.” She winked before taking a sharp intake of breath, her voice smooth as she launched into song. Within a few seconds Kylo had his phone out, stopwatch at the ready just as Rey took a breath to transition from clean vocals to fry screams. Though it was just the two of them playing, her vocals and Finn’s riffs harmonized in a pleasant chord that resonated deeply within Kylo’s being. If he’d had any doubts before about choosing Rey to fill Pava’s place, they were chased away by this very moment as he watched Finn and Rey come together in a way that Pava had only been able to connect with Kylo and their music. 

It became clear that Rey was straining to hold the note, and she finished it with a sonorous flourish. Their harmony as strong as ever, the recording room went silent in one single instant that left the room feeling too big and too empty. Kylo stopped the timer on his phone. Fourteen seconds. Goddamn. 

“So?” Rey asked, eyes bright with her exuberance. 

“Fourteen seconds,” Kylo told her. “That’s...pretty impressive.”

Finn mumbled behind her, “Holy shit.” 

“Wow, that’s better than I even thought I’d do.” Rey rubbed at the back of her neck nervously, turning to Finn with a sheepish smile on her face. “So, yeah. Fry vocal technique. It may be easy, but it has its advantages.” 

Kylo cleared his throat, slipping his iPhone into the back pocket of his jeans. “What brought this on?” he asked, head turning as the door behind him opened up to reveal the rest of the band and their producer. They had to go bags from the cafe in hand, and Hux carried with him a round of drinks that he distributed among the room. 

“Korrie’s idea,” Finn said as he exited the recording room and accepted his drink gratefully. “Something just didn’t feel right about this song, so we looked at it again and she suggested it.” Rey followed behind him, sipping her honeyed hot tea with a grateful smile. That and room temperature water had become her beverages of choice whilst she screamed her heart out in the studio. She had several bottles set out above the mini fridge just for her.

Kylo was not familiar with many vocalists, but the motley he did know each had their own idiosyncratic mannerisms when it came to taking care of their voices. 

Korr Sella shrugged it off, her beverage a painfully sweet cappuccino that left a bit of foam on her Cupid’s bow. She licked it off nonchalantly. “I thought the dichotomy of their vocals would give us the feeling we’ve been trying to pour into the song.” She seated herself beside Hux, next to the recording system.

Kylo nodded his head. Rey’s sweet, higher voice combined with Finn’s sombre baritone? “Alright. Let’s hear it,” he said. “See how it flows.” They could examine his song after they finished this one.

“Perfect,” Rey chirped. “Good thing we’re all warmed up.” She set her tea down on a coaster, meandering into the recording room with her palms rubbing together in glee. Music was everything to her, a semblance of himself that Kylo observed reflected back at him in spades. Perhaps it was that which had drawn him deeper into the tangled gossamer of his emotions, though it didn’t hurt that she had a wide smile full of white teeth to catch his attention.

The thought had Kylo pause mid-sip of his own drink, lips curling around the rim. When had he accepted the startling fondness for Rey for the innate attraction that it was? His dark gaze followed her as she shuffled the song’s sheet music in front of her, barely acknowledging Finn as he stood at her side by the microphone. The two of them donned headphones and did a soundcheck, her vibrato giving way to a bubble of laughter that echoed with Kylo’s lurching heart. 

_This is the curse of the Solo men,_ Han’s voice sounded from an unbidden memory, _we fall fast and hard for the woman most capable of bringing us to our knees. Watch yourself, son._

“We’ll start at ‘ _should we drift apart_ ’,” Rey directed, bringing everyone’s attention onto both her and Finn. With just the few of them in the room, no instruments, just the sweet silence of the moment, Kylo’s inner demons were quiet for the first time in years. They had been for a couple of weeks now. While he tried not to be the hopeless romantic he’d known his own father to be, he couldn’t suppress the acknowledgement that it coincided with her presence in his life.

Hux tinkered with the recording system, queueing the audio and letting it play through the speakers. Finn and Rey had a few moments to find their places, and what happened next had Kylo forgetting where he was and basking in the pure artistry of the two of them coming together.

Rey opened with her signature soft sweetness, vibrato echoing true through the recording room as Finn’s voice complimented her with subdued growls. Rey was a beacon of light, a white canary beckoning forth those to listen to her pretty song. Finn was a dark promise of temptation and sin and destruction, of corruption and satisfaction. _Just one simple choice to make, what is wrong and what is right?_ Rey sang her inquiry with a pleading honesty and openness that brought forth too much warmth to Kylo’s chest, warmth tampered down by the lurid curiosity posed by Finn, _Just one simple choice to make, what is wrong and what is right?_

If it could elicit such a visceral response from him, it was perfect and it would be on the album or he’d die trying.

*        *        *

“You haven’t presented your song to the band yet, do you still want it on the album?” Rey stood over Kylo, her hair wet and her face make-up free. She used a towel to dry her hair one fistful at a time, and the look in her hazel eyes was innocent and benign in its curiosity.

Kylo licked his bottom lip, clearing his throat as if his mouth hadn’t suddenly gone dry at seeing her. Rey enjoyed wearing makeup and playing with eyeshadows and eyeliners, and he was so used to seeing her painted face that it felt like too much, too personal to witness her so naked and barefaced. 

“Yeah.” Kylo swallowed past the lump in his throat. “We’ve just been on a roll with the rest of the songs, it didn’t feel like the right time. Felt like I would impede our progress.” He’d spoken a bit more frankly than he had wanted to, but given that Rey had already seen him at his most vulnerable, it was too easy to be honest with her. His most recent therapist would be thrilled at his ability to articulate his emotions.

A small smile pulled the corners of Rey’s mouth upward as she took a seat across from him in the recliner. “Alright,” she agreed, “but while we’re thinking about it...have we considered a concept for the album?” 

Kylo hummed in the back of his throat, head tilting to the side. Strangely, the band had not and it was liberating to defer from their patented routine. Their first major album under their label as Knights of Ren had been about rebirth, about saying goodbye to Starkiller’s woes and moving on to an uncertain but promising future. It had been about rediscovering who they were as Knights of Ren, shedding the veil of Starkiller and leaving it in the past where it belonged. Vengeance was the album after that, and the concept in and of itself had been experimental as they all tried their hands at metalcore and giving voice to their purest emotions. It was Kylo’s least favorite album in all the wrong ways, because it wasn’t _Knights of Ren_ , despite the fact it had brought them so much attention and furthered them as musicians. 

When it came to Knights of Ren and concepts, they tended to go hand in hand. But since Rey’s inception of the band, they hadn’t sat down at the round table enjoyed hearty discussions. No, they’d meandered right into the studio and started strumming and humming and put pen to paper. 

Finally, after a lengthy pause, he admitted, “I don’t even know where to start for a concept. This album is so vastly different from anything we’ve ever done before. We’re changing, not just the band, but us individually as musicians too.”

It was Rey’s turn to hum. She looked a portrait of contentment in that moment, wet and tangled hair falling to the right side of her head and not a care in the world. “Well, we’ve got thirteen songs together so far. Maybe when we decide it’s finished for sure, we can come back to this, yeah?” 

Kylo met her gaze and flushed with that warmth he was getting too used to. He wanted to look away but thought better of it. Out of all the women considered to be Pava’s replacement, it had to be Rey. Strong, beautiful, skilled Rey who was young but had a brilliant soul and an astute mind. Music had been her entire life for as long as she could remember, she’d told him once, and to be making it was an honor.

If anyone asked him, he’d say the true honor was getting to make it with _her_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lajon Witherspoon is the vocalist for Sevendust, [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYw9ChYKcE4) is my favorite song by them for reference. I modeled Rey’s 14 second scream after [Munro’s From Where I’m Standing](https://behold-munro.bandcamp.com/), and the lyrics mentioned in Finn/Rey’s part are from Any Given Day’s [Levels](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5eIR7036OQ). As far as I know, the thing about fry vocals is mostly true—it uses less air and therefore you can hold it much longer, though it may not be as loud as say a false chord scream. One YouTuber who delved pretty deep into the topic didn't seem to be a fan of it...lol. 
> 
> Also, Finn's [BC Rich Kerry King signature guitar](http://www.bcrich.com/kerry-king-signature-series/), the red and black one in the second column. 
> 
> I’d like to take a brief moment to highlight on an obvious theme in this fic. Yes, a lot of my personal life has slipped into here—most of it unintentional, but the best writing advice I’ve ever been given is to write what I know so… Anyway, point is that if you’re struggling, please don’t be afraid to seek help. This WILL be a recurring, much emphasized theme throughout the fic because you deserve to be healthy—mentally, emotionally, and physically. I just ended my two year relationship because my now ex-boyfriend is a high-functioning alcoholic (has been for years), and he’s just “not ready” to get help. It was affecting my own mental health, and I’m already dysthymic and have icky anxiety problems. 
> 
> Take care of yourselves, everyone!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler-ish chapter, but we're taking baby steps towards Reylo doing the thing by exploring more of their inherently instantaneous emotional connection. Or something. Thanks everyone for reading! ♥

  
_”All deep things are song. It seems somehow the very central essence of us, song; as if all the rest were but wrappages and hulls!”_ \- Thomas Carlyle

The album had come together in the best way possible, an amalgamation of each member and the all of the knowledge and skill they had amassed over the decade Knights of Ren had been together. It was different without Jessika Pava, but it was a thrilling sort of change that summoned a new, vibrant eagerness to explore. Rey was young, they knew that, but she loved music and it loved her back. She had an innate talent about her, one she’d skillfully cultivated and molded as she grew into the frontwoman she was meant to be.

It was different from anything Knights of Ren had ever done, it was a little bit more personal in all the ways their previous music hadn’t been. Every member of Knights of Ren—Kylo, Hux, Poe, and Finn—all of them had a different chemistry with Pava. Six months ago, after they’d just gotten home from finishing the last leg of their tour, just before she’d announced her departure, they had been basking in the success like cats to sunspots and windows. Now, though, there was a fervid anticipation built up inside all of their guts like never before. 

When Kylo Ren, then a young Ben Solo, had hatched the idea of Starkiller with Jessika Pava, the two of them hadn’t had even a modicum of their abilities today. Pava’s voice held the promise of talent, but it was untrained and whenever she tried to scream, she was a terrifying harpy straight from the myths themselves. Kylo himself had been at the point where he knew how to play guitar, but he had yet to fully understand the instrument itself. He had been too much too soon, wanting nothing more than to take ten steps forward over a gap he had yet to bridge. 

But that bridge had been built and rebuilt with each new skill of the trade he’d learned, and it was only just now that Kylo Ren felt like an artist worthy of looking deep inside himself and doing justice to the music. It was why he had written _his_ song, but he’d written it for Knights of Ren. He’d written it originally with Pava’s voice in mind, but after her departure he’d brought Rey into his studio room and asked her to do her voice justice since he didn’t know it the way he wished.

What justice she had done indeed, her exuberant youth the perfect touch to bring the song to where it needed to be. It was his song, his anguish and his regret and self-blame, but it would be a song for Knights of Ren. It would be his deepest shame split five ways, given form by his deft fingers, by Finn’s rhythm, by the pulse and flow of Poe and Hux’s bass and percussion, and given voice deep from Rey’s bosom.

It was a startling realization to come to, to think that in the months since Pava’s departure, that Kylo knew his song to be perfect the way it was—without her. So he took a deep breath and showed it to the band. And as he exhaled, he expelled a miasma and found relief.

Together, Kylo and Rey had recorded a mid-quality demo by themselves using programmed drums and her vast talents. He presented it to the band with copies of all the music for them to follow along with, listening to Rey hum with the melody of the song and Poe’s fingers as he tapped out his part in time with the music. 

When the song was finished, everyone in the room was looking at him but Kylo was more prepared than ever to bear the brunt of their gazes.

Behind them, Phasma stood next to Korr Sella and was the first to break the silence. “You sure?” she questioned.

“More than ever,” Kylo affirmed, ducking his gaze to miss Rey’s soft smile.

Phasma didn’t have such inhibitions about looking people in the eye. In her own weird way it was because she cared, but she buried that care deep under the guise of professionalism. “The topic of this song is obvious, and you’ve had me blacklist all media from ever asking about it for years. Are you really sure, Kylo? If you put this song on the album, I don’t know how many questions I can filter out for you.” 

Kylo shrugged. “Then don’t,” he said, and summoning his conviction, he added, “I’m ready.”

Phasma nodded. “Very well then,” she acquiesced. 

The band got together and meandered into the studio for the remainder of the day, putting the song together as they learned it. Korr was quiet the majority of the afternoon, having only given one instruction for a break after Rey’s voice had cracked. She, better than anyone in the room, knew how important this song was to Kylo. It had been barely a fortnight since they had last reviewed it together, but she would accept nothing less than perfection from herself. 

During their break, Kylo had pulled her aside and told her, “Don’t push yourself. The song is about flaws—not perfection.” Rey hadn’t said anything, visibly pressing her tongue into her cheek as she nodded. 

They had resumed practice, and after flying through the song together once, they tried it again and this time Korr recorded it. The beta demo was the best Kylo could hope for, but over the following couple of days as they edited it. They tweaked the audio and layered some of Rey’s vocals for a skin-crawling effect. It was by far the longest time they’d ever spent on a song, but the end result was well worth it in the end for six minutes of what could very well be the magnum opus of the album. 

“That’s a wrap!” Korr cheerfully declared upon deciding the song, and consequently the album itself had reached completion. “I must say, it has been thrilling and enlightening to work with all of you on this album. You by far exceeded my expectations. Probably Phasma’s too, though she won’t admit it but I know better because I’ve caught her listening to the demos in her office.” 

“Hey!” Phasma had snapped, nose wrinkled in discontent. She didn’t deny the claim, though. 

Hux threw his arm over the band manager’s shoulders and leaned in to exaggeratedly whisper, “Phas, please, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t true.”

Phasma swatted at him. “Be gone, you gnat!” she hissed as the rest of the room erupted in chuckles. “I see how you all are! I’ll just be taking this to the label execs and say it was all me. Phasma, soon to be a global metal sensation. Knights of Ren who?” 

“Ah, don’t be so cruel!” Finn cried out, “That’s my livelihood! What would I do to feed my eight sons and daughters?!” 

“What would we do to feed _our nine_ sons and daughters,” Poe cackled as he corrected his roommate.

Finn made a face. “BB is no child of mine,” he grumped. 

Kylo inhaled sharply, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Well, you could, and I’m not trying to suggest anything, but cats _do_ like fish and I happen to have a big one at home…” 

“Kylo!” Rey howled, smacking his shoulder in reproach. Beneath her foundation, her face was warm with the flux of heat at how intimate the gesture was to her. _Thank you Kat Von D,_ she thought. 

“I didn’t say anything about letting Poe’s cats eat Deetu, I have no idea what you could possibly mean.”

“You are not helping at all!” Finn crossed his arms over his chest petulantly. 

Hux cackled from where Phasma had pushed him away from her. “I’ll be sure to tell your mother that one,” he jested. 

“Oh no,” Kylo had said with exaggerated sarcasm, “I’m quaking in my boots, my mother will have my head on a pike for such an atrocity.” 

Rey wanted to say something, but couldn’t hold back the laughter bubbling in her chest. This was…this was nice, being able to relax with the band and have fun. To fit in. To be apart of their banter and share in their laughter.

She was going to be just fine.

*        *        *

“Are you sure about this?” Galen Erso’s voice was distorted by the phone, but it was the same fatherly warmth Rey had come to know and adore through the many years of her life.

She nodded absently, her body juddering in the less than warm temperatures outside, and spoke into her mobile, “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s got a good, solid foundation. I remembered your checklist, Dad. It’s quite the fixer-upper, but I want to do it. I know I can.” 

Galen made a noise in the back of his throat. “I’m just concerned that buying an entire apartment complex with the intention of rebuilding it after you just joined a major label band and finished an album might be a bit much for you to take on all at once, Rey. I know how you are. You’re my daughter.”

_Daughter._ How much the word warmed Rey to her bones.

“Well, yeah,” she agreed, a bit lamely as she kicked a pebble down the street. “I don’t have any goals to have it done like next year or something. We just finished our album and the label is reviewing it now. Things are about to get insane, and I know that. I just...I want something to be able to come back to when I need it.” 

Rey’s father let out one of those sighs that said too much and yet nothing all at once. He understood exactly what she meant, probably better than even her, but he still needed to be Dad. “And you called me because…?” 

Rey grinned, whirling around on her heel to take a look back at the building she wanted for herself. The paint was chipped and an awful dirty white, but she’d fix that. The inside didn’t have much to offer except its nice foundation, but she wanted nothing more than to gut everything and rebuild it from scratch. Just walking through all five of the apartments in the building had her thrumming with energy, her fingers twirling at her sides as it ebbed and flowed inside of her.

“I called you, _Dad_ ,” yeah, that’ll get him real soft right there, “because my credit history is still shiny and new and neither the realtor or the banks think this is a wise purchase all on my own. So will you co-sign with me?” 

Galen had made a noise halfway through Rey’s well-prepared speech, something that sounded like a scoff but was a sound of surrender. 

“You’ve done this for decades, Dad! You don’t have to worry about the money at all, everything with the band is about to hit full swing. Finn was kind enough to give me an idea of what kind of money I’ll be making, not to mention I still get royalties from my YouTube channel. I’ve got this, I just...I _want_ you to help me. I want you to help me the way I helped you whilst I was growing up.” Rey bit her lip after she finished, her body going tight with the anticipation of waiting for Galen’s answer. The answer she already knew, but hearing it would make it _real_.

“Rey, you...you definitely rehearsed that with your mother, didn’t you?”

Proudly, Rey denies, “Nope! But I am her daughter.” 

“That you are.” Galen hums in the back of his throat. “Alright, let me figure out some stuff with work down here and talk to your mother. Maybe we’ll both come up and make a little something more of it, yeah?” 

Of course, thanks to the marvels of technology and Galen’s generous think tank job, he was able to have the paperwork all drawn up and signed within a week. Rey had been waiting with baited breath, having bitten her nails down to the quick with the weight of her nerves as the band waited to hear back from the label regarding the finalization of their album. It had Korr Sella’s golden seal of approval, but they were far from the only band on the label’s roster. It was only a matter of time until they got together to consider how the band should present themselves as an image, themes, and throwing together teasers and music videos and interviews. 

It was all so much. Almost too much. 

_You can do this,_ Rey told herself every morning when she applied her makeup. _You earned this through good ol’ fashioned blood, sweat, and tears. Everything is going to be just fine._ Those little reminders in the morning were sometimes the one thing standing between her and a black abyss of nothingness. If she let herself think on it too long, it would be too easy to slip off the precipice. 

Rey busied herself with Kylo and the music, reviewing songs and setlists of the past. It was absolutely pertinent that she be able to stand beside them and perform whichever songs they might choose for any future tours. Even if she hadn’t been present for the first four albums and two EPs, she needed to take all of their music and make it her own in the ways they had once been Jessika Pava’s. It was time to let go of the past and move onto the future. 

Of course, it couldn’t be so easy. It wouldn’t be worth it if it was. 

Ultimately, it would be worth it in the end. It would be worth meeting her parents at the airport, suffering their public affections in the frigid outdoors. It would be worth her father’s signature right next to hers on her new loan on her apartment building. It would be worth the phone call from Phasma saying the record label loved the album and wanted to meet to continue forward to release. It would be worth the tears as she embraced her parents, eyes burning and emotion bursting from her chest. It would be worth the sweat from her days spent at the gym, the constant thrumming of musical echoes reverberating through her. 

Rey couldn’t think of a time when things had been any better for her, and for the first time, she could think back to her childhood and be truly proud of herself. _In ten years, you’re going to take these first steps towards your future. Don’t be scared. Embrace it. It’ll be the best thing to ever happen to you as it all comes together._

Rey’s life converged in the loveliest of ways as winter in Kennewick came to a warm sweetness. She extended an invitation to her new apartment building to every available person she could, her parents and her bandmates. She was damn near vibrating on the street as they all joined her, clouded breaths and hands shoved deep in pockets. 

“This is it!” Rey exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. “This is my apartment building.” She walked up the steps and unlocked the large front door. It gave way to a small hall, a stairwell in front of her and two diverging paths on either side of them. It had 5 apartments altogether, two three bedrooms, two two bedrooms, and a single one bedroom. The tour was brief as she showed them which apartments were where, a functional basement she could furnish for whatever her heart desired, and then she lead them inside one of the side units.

“This one will be mine, so we’ll start here.” Rey set down the dufflebag she’d carried inside, closing her front door and locking it behind her. The air in the building smelled stale and moldy and there were water rings on the ceiling. “This is kind of an Erso family tradition, so help yourselves,” she said as she unzipped the bag. 

Between all of them, there was a wealthy distribution of sledgehammers, axes, pickaxes—just about anything destructive Rey could get her hands on. She twirled a sledgehammer of her own, a smile twisting at her lips before she mused aloud, “This is almost too funny. Rockstars have always had a stereotypical reputation for destroying hotel rooms, and here we are about to destroy this apartment.” 

She looked across the room to meet Kylo’s gaze, her face warming beneath the weight of it. The more she looked at him, the more she saw a reflection of herself that had her blood racing in her veins. 

“Here’s to Knights of Ren,” Rey declared, brandishing her weapon. “For ten years of wicked awesome success, and hopefully many more to come.” 

Galen inserted, “And to you, Rey, for always going above and beyond to accomplish your goals in life.” 

Rey nodded. “Out with the old and in with the new, yeah?” 

Together, they lined up in front of a wall and swung their instruments of destruction. The first hits were always the toughest, but once the wall started crumbling, it didn’t stop until it was a pile of wood and nails behind them. 

It was cathartic, to imagine every single thing she’d ever begrudged close to her chest as the focus of where her sledgehammer landed. She remembered The Unfortunate Years with a painful clarity, but each swing vanquished a nightmare and each bead of sweat was a reminder she didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

Rey wiped her brow on the back of her hand, chest heaving with exertion as she turned to watch Kylo pry his weapon of choice from a hefty piece of drywall. Did it bring him as much of a release as it did her? Did he imagine the face of his demons when his arms bulged with effort to pulverize the wall? 

Rey swallowed her thoughts as she helped herself to a bottle of water, trying not to think about how much she just wanted to cross the length of the room and kiss him silly.

Kylo had done nothing other than be kind and accommodating, and their work ethics matched each other perfectly. She was young and naive, it would pass. It had to. 

Right?

*        *        *

“What does Knights of Ren mean to you?” Kylo asked, seated in his recliner with indelible poise. He had his hands folded in his lap, several papers clutched as he peered at her. “Answer as openly and honestly as you can. Remember we’re not being recorded yet.”

Rey tilted her head back with a laugh, but tapered off to contemplate the question. It took her several moments longer than it should’ve because Kylo was wearing a black t-shirt that hugged the breadth of him. She scratched absently at her cheek as she gathered her thoughts. “In previous interviews, you’ve spoken of Confucian philosophy. Ren is a word applied to the feeling of being benevolent and altruistic and it’s considered an important virtue in Confucianism, right?” 

Kylo encouraged her to continue with a nod.

Rey’s tongue swept over her bottom lip, sticky with a sweetened lip balm. “Ren is about—being the best person you can be. It’s about humanity. Taking care of not only yourself, but others too. As a Knight of Ren...it’s about humanity, at its core, and protecting it. Protecting and encouraging and nurturing ourselves and others. It’s about honoring the good, and overcoming the bad and the ugly.” 

Kylo was quiet, and then he said, “Perfect.” His voice was a low purr-like sound, one that Rey felt beneath her skin, but the way he cleared his throat afterward suggested it hadn’t been intentional. “Now just try to be a bit more concise. What does Knights of Ren mean to you?” 

It was easier to simplify her ramblings than she thought it would. More than that, however, Rey was glad to have the opportunity to practice with Kylo. As the new frontwoman of the band, a lot of attention would be directed her way during interviews. Kylo, Hux, Finn, and Poe—all four of them had been at this for several years now. They had answered the questions ten times over, but Rey was fresh meat the media would love to sink its teeth into. 

Kylo thought it fair she be prepared, and Rey hadn’t been able to disagree. It meant spending more time alone with him than she thought appropriate giving the fluttering in her bosom, but she was a goddamn adult and she could control herself. 

Rey plucked the words from tangled webs within her mind and strung together an answer, “Knights of Ren is about protecting humanity, about nurturing us to be the best we can be.” 

Kylo’s mouth quirked upwards. He was pleased with her answer. “Alright,” he said. “But what if the interviewer points out that not all of our songs share such a hopeful message?” 

Rey felt a part of herself open up as she fired back to answer his question, little thought required. As she had become familiar with the music that was now part of her, it was the one constant thought in mind. “Humanity isn’t about just hope. There’s good and there’s bad and there’s downright ugly. To censure the bad and the ugly because it isn’t _good_ kind of ruins the point of nurturing the best from humanity, doesn’t it? Sorrow and anger are distinctly human experiences that help us appreciate laughter and joy.” 

Funny enough, it sounded like something one of Rey’s earliest therapists once told her. 

Kylo’s reaction was a quiet one, but nevertheless intense. He stared at her with his eyes dark and clouded by something Rey couldn’t find the word to describe, but she felt like he was seeing all of her weaknesses, her vulnerabilities, like no one else had ever before. Like he saw Rey Erso, not a temporary roommate he jived well with. Not a co-worker. Not a woman of many talents that enabled her to fill an empty space out of necessity.

Kylo Ren looked at her, and he saw Rey. She’d opened herself up to him with those few words, just the way Kylo had the night he’d sat her down and asked her to help him with his song. 

“I should,” Kylo cleared his throat, “keep that in mind. That was the perfect answer, better than I could have worded it myself. Not that there was a right or a wrong answer, but…” 

Rey offered him a small smile. “I think one of my old therapists said it to me once. She told me it was okay to be sad and angry and hurt about what I call The Unfortunate Years, before I was adopted by my parents. But, to become better, I had to learn how to process through those feelings and overcome them. The Unfortunate Years aren’t my life anymore, and I shouldn’t let them control what I do. It took some time, but I know that now and I want to do my best to share that with everyone else who has ever felt pain.

“That, above anything else, is what Knights of Ren means to me.” Rey winked at Kylo, pushing away the somber mood between them. “I’ll probably polish that answer up before it hits any form of media, but I mean every word of it.” 

The papers that Kylo had written his practice interview questions on fell to the coffee table between them. “I know you do,” he said. “That’s why I’m glad more than ever that we found you. You’re perfect for—for Knights of Ren.” 

Rey tried not to acknowledge how he’d stumbled over his words, like his tongue meant to say something else but he had to stop himself. That was just fantastical imaginings, and there was no place for that right now. “Thank you,” she said with heartfelt sentiment.

He gave her a quirky smile again, this time the final push to do away with the weight of whatever it was between them. “Let’s take a break,” he suggested. “I’m starving. Pizza sound good?” Kylo drew to his full height, stretching high from having sat still for longer than he was used to. His dark T-shirt rose up, Rey’s mouth going dry at the sight of pale skin and muscle and dark hairs trailing down into his jeans.

Before she could stop herself, she managed to bite out a single word weight down with so much meaning, she knew she could not ever go back to her world of pretending again. 

“Perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a work in progress right now. I've been unsuccessfully trying to write this for months (more or less since I saw TFA), but it keeps changing gears on me and going back and forth. So instead I've decided to try something new by posting this as a multi-chaptered work and begging for your love and adoration. I've been out of the fandom game for too long, I need y'all like a plant needs sunlight lol 
> 
> Thank you to all the people who give this fic a chance, even just seeing that people are giving this fic the time of day motivates me to steer this thing towards completion. ♥


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